AkuRoWhat? That's Not a Word!
by BrokenRepublic
Summary: Forget the Heartless! Axel and Roxas take on their toughest enemies yet—an estranged fangirl and her army of Axel and Roxas doppelgangers.
1. Chapter 1

**_AkuRo--What? That's Not a Word!_**

Late one night in The World That Never Was, Axel pushed open the door to his protégé's room and leaned against the doorframe with a smirk. "Bored?" he asked, crossing his arms.

Roxas tilted his head to the side of his pillow and nodded. He rested flat on his bed for lack of anything better to do until the next mission.

"Come on, let's go to the Usual Spot," Axel said with a nudge towards the hall.

"I thought we missed the sunset…"

"True, but we can still catch the stars."

Giving out a soft hum, Roxas rolled off his bed and got his feet. He joined Axel in the hall and the two disappeared into a dark portal bound for Twilight Town. When they stepped onto the cobbled streets of their favorite world, the distant chime of the clock tower rang twelve times.

"It's officially August 13th," Roxas commented. "It's been 267 days since I joined the Organization."

"Still keeping count?"

Roxas gave a small nod. Keeping track of the days allowed him to hold his memories close. He never wanted to forget moments like these where he spent time outside with his best friend.

Traveling through the quiet streets of Station Heights, they walked side-by-side in peaceful silence. The tower grew nearer with each step and Roxas could see its silhouette in the distance with its clock face brightly lit. Though before they could reach the top of the hill, Axel came to an abrupt halt, his arms outstretched and his head snapping to the side.

"What's up?" Roxas asked.

"We're not alone."

Furrowing his brows, Roxas was about to inquire further when he caught sight of a shadow moving in the alley. He slid into a defensive position, readying his hands to summon forth the Keyblade if necessary. With knees bent and arms flexed, he turned his head to survey the area like Axel. The two friends stood back-to-back, eyes roaming the dimly lit surroundings.

Something rustled in the shadows, kicking a tin can and glass bottle in the process. A cat screeched and jumped out of the alley, hissing as it shot past the two Nobodies. Their attention focused on the feline for only a split second, but that's all the distraction their true assailant needed. A second figure flung itself from the shadows and tackled both friends to the ground.

Axel let out a loud grunt, trying hard to free himself from the stranglehold that prevented his flow of oxygen. "Wh-what the…?!" he choked out, trying to gasp for breath. But as he pried himself free of the ironclad grip, the former hand around his neck wormed its way between his back and the ground, pressing into his kidney. He grit his teeth, concentrating all his energy into his legs and sprung the culprit straight of his body.

"OMG, squee!!!" cried the anonymous attacker as she flew straight through the air, looped around, and landed gracefully on her feet. "That was so totally awesome!"

Flipping onto his feet with furrowed eyebrows, Axel looked over his opponent. In a fraction of a second his wrinkled scowl straightened into an expression of complete confusion. "A girl?" he exclaimed. "Who the heck do you think you are, sister? Don't you know it's dangerous to roam around at midnight, jumping on a couple of shady guys?"

But the girl didn't seem to pay any attention to Axel. She instead scoured her pockets with a determined tongue dangling out her mouth and screamed "Eureka!" when she pulled out a small camera. Holding it up, a super-high beam of light flashed and blinded Axel again, and again, and again, and again. All the while, the deranged girl squealed in delight with every press of the shutter button.

Axel shot his arms over his eyes to shield him from the awesome power of flash photography. "Cut that out, you foolish girl!" He turned his sights down to where Roxas was struggling on the ground. "Hey, get up and help me!"

"I can't!" his best friend said, wriggling his body. "She drooled on me!"

Axel raised an eyebrow. "So what?!"

"It's like some kind of superglue," Roxas grunted.

"Then take off your cloak! Do something—the light is blinding me!"

With a nod, Roxas lifted a struggling arm to his zipper. He tugged it down slowly, not able to maneuver his limb with enough ease or precision to tap into his swifter reflexes. The estranged saliva kept him struck to the ground like an insect on flypaper while the high-beamed flashes made his pupils go wide like a deer in the headlights.

"Yeah, take it off!" cheered the deranged girl, clicking her camera even faster. "Take it all off, baby! Whoo!"

Roxas cringed. "Who _is_ that?" Slipping his arms free from their sticky sleeves, he jolted onto his feet and summoned the Keyblade.

"Better yet, _what_ is that?"

"Tee-hee! I'm, like, your number one fan!" the girl shrilled with a grand old smile that showed off her metal braces.

Not wasting anymore time, Roxas jumped into the air and flung his Keyblade at the crazy chick. "Strike Raid!" he hollered, sending his blade on a collision course with that evil camera. It slapped the device clear out of the girl's hands, ceasing the blinding stream of light in the process.

"Don't worry, my little bishies! I have a spare!" With that look of utter glee and ecstasy still plastered over her face, the strange girl reached into her purse and pulled out a pink, cellular phone. But before she could flip it open, Axel charged up to her and grabbed her wrist. "OMG! Axel's touching me!! I could just die!"

"You don't know the half of it," Axel said, taking the cell phone with his free hand and crushing it in his grip.

As the girl watched her phone fall to little, metallic pieces and hit the ground, she jumped in eager rhythm from one foot onto the other. "OMG!! Axel crushed my phone! Squee!"

Both Axel and Roxas stared confused at the estranged girl, not sure what to make of her peculiar antics.

"Just who are you?" Roxas tried again.

"OMG! Roxas is talking to me!! I could just die! …Again!"

"You _will_ die if you don't answer our questions!" Axel growled, tugging at the girl's arm with a menacing glare contorting his countenance. He leaned his face in close, hoping to scare the girl into submission. But he found himself letting go and leaping back in horror when she placed a kiss on his nose. "What the heck?!"

"OH. MY. GOD. …I just kissed Axel…_On the nose!!_ Squee!" She did a little victory jump, throwing one hand in the air as she screamed into the night sky.

"Axel, what should we do?" Roxas asked. But he didn't receive a reply. His best friend was too preoccupied rubbing his nose with wide eyes to respond. "Hey, snap out of it! Axel!" Still nothing. The man stood transfixed, not able to comprehend the acidic burning sensation fluttering through his cartilage. Growing impatient, Roxas grabbed both of Axel's shoulders and shook him while shouting, "Number 8. Axel. The Flurry of Dancing Flames!"

Axel blinked, eyes refocusing on his best friend. "…What just happened?"

"I don't know," Roxas replied with a shake of his head. "But we need to deal with her. She's trouble. I'm getting a really weird feeling being near her."

"Yeah, me too—wait! We're both—we can feel?" he sputtered. "That's not possible!"

"Of course it is!" exclaimed the girl, now standing between the two friends. They jumped back, shocked that she could move so fast and undetected. "Anything's possible on AkuRoku Day!!"

Axel narrowed his eyes. "Aku-what?"

"AkuRoku Day!" the girl repeated, her smile growing. "It's like Christmas for fanfics only yummier! Mmm!"

Roxas looked over at Axel in confusion. "Did they invent a new holiday while we were stuck in our rooms?"

"That's not a holiday! That's just a made-up word by some weird chick with a death wish." He held out his arms, outstretched up from his sides so that his open palms faced outwards. Flames burst from his hands and his chakrams appeared. "Roxas, just think of her as a Heartless! You know what to do!"

"But, Axel—"

"Just attack!" Axel flung himself at the deranged girl, but she didn't even look fazed. Instead, she rolled her eyes skyward and tapped a pointer finger against her cheek.

"Oh dear, you two need to get into the 'AkuRoku' spirit." She locked gazes with Axel just as he readied himself to make contact with his chakrams. But the man soon found himself suspended in mid-air, his body frozen in place.

"Hey! What did you do to him?" Roxas demanded with a cross-slash of his Keyblade. His patience worn thin, he glared at the girl and prepared to strike at her himself.

"Aww, don't worry! I'll get you both fixed up faster than you can say 'slash-fic plz!'" With a snap of her fingers, the estranged girl froze Roxas in place just as he lifted the Keyblade for another Strike Raid. She then reached back into her purse and pulled out a fuzzy, pink pen and a matching pink notebook, flipping the notebook open and jotting several things down in it. "Don't worry, my little bishies! I'll fix everything right up, tee-hee!"

Pink portals swirled beneath the two Nobodies, spewing out pink tentacles that latched onto their bodies and hauled them into the unknown, pink abyss.

* * *

Axel awoke with his head buried in a pillow. Springing his body up from the mattress, the covers slipped off him and revealed his bare frame. "What the heck happened to my cloak?" he wondered. "And my chakrams?" Eyes falling down to the bed, he scoured it in vain for his missing paraphernalia. He let out an agitated grunt, turning his attention instead to the small dresser against the wall and pulling out various articles of clothing. The Flurry of Dancing Flames didn't deal too well with the frigid air freezing his naked body.

After throwing on the heaviest clothing he could find, he made a run out the door into a long hallway—not caring in the least that he just stole some random guy's apparel. Eyes narrowed, he made gradual progression down the hall while keeping his eyes peeled for both his partner and that weird chick. When he found his way out of the complex, he stepped out onto the snow-covered streets and shivered.

Taking a look around the town, he didn't recognize any of the buildings. "That girl must have teleported us to another world," he muttered, walking down the shoveled sidewalk. He traveled for a good twenty minutes with no sign of either target. The world proved huge—larger than what he was accustomed to, and the freezing weather made it even more troublesome for a flaming Nobody such as himself. The below-zero temperature took its toll and forced him to withdraw into the warmth of the nearest building.

"Axel, there you are!" shouted a familiar voice.

The Nobody snapped his head towards the door with a small, relieved smile. "Roxas."

"I've been looking everywhere for you," Roxas said as he approached. Like Axel, he was dressed in a heavy jacket and snow boots.

"Same here," Axel replied with a nod. "Any idea what's going on, or did you wake up naked too?"

Roxas raised an eyebrow at the taller man and smirked, jabbing him in the ribs. "Is that supposed to be some sort of cheesy pick-up line?"

"Huh?"

"Ha, ha. You know I'm already yours, so there's no need to woo me," Roxas continued. "C'mon, let's go to the café and get something warm to drink. We can go skating afterwards like we planned." He looped his arm with Axel's and proceeded to lead him out the door.

All the while, Axel stared at his best friend with a scrutinizing gaze until they entered the café. They sat down at a table for two near the window, getting a panoramic, super-special, lovely, wonderful view of the winter wonderland outside. Roxas sat across from Axel, taking off his winter coat and slinging it across the back of his seat before gazing back up at the taller man. He took notice of Axel's furrowed brows, and his own expression dropped. "Hey, are you okay, Ax?"

"_Axe…?"_

"Did the cold weather get to you? Maybe we shouldn't go skating."

Axel furrowed his brows even more. Why was his partner acting so peculiar? "Roxas, what's gotten—"

"Hello, I'm your waitress for today! What can I get you two?"

"I'll have a hot chocolate," Roxas replied.

"And you, sir?" she asked, turning to Axel with her pen and pad at the ready. But his narrowing eyes remained fixed on Roxas. "Sir…?"

"Axel?" Roxas looked at the man, concerned. "Are you okay?"

A long pause ensued before Axel gave an insincere smirk and answered without tearing his eyes away from Roxas. "The same for me," he said.

Nodding, the waitress jotted down the orders and made her exit.

"Axel, what—"

"She did this, didn't she?" Axel interjected.

"Huh?" Roxas didn't even bother to hide his confusion. "Who are you talking about?"

"That stupid girl!" He gripped the sides of the circular table and pressed his long fingers into it. "She did this to you!"

Roxas frowned. "I see where this is going…"

"She—huh? You do…?" he asked, genuinely curious.

"Axel…" Roxas let out a shaky, infuriated breath. "We've been over this; I don't like her that way."

"What…?" Now it was Axel's turn to be confused.

"Naminé is like a sister to me! How could you ever believe those rumors?" he shouted. "You trust some punk losers at school more than you trust me?"

"Roxas—"

"Just shut up, Axel! I can't believe after all this—after everything we've been through—you still don't trust me!" Roxas pushed away from his seat, grabbing his jacket and tossing it back on.

"Roxas," Axel tried again, but to no avail.

"I just can't be in a relationship with someone who doesn't trust me," the teen said in a cold tone. "Goodbye, Axel." He turned to leave, but Axel shot up from his chair and called after him the only way he knew how.

"Number 13. Roxas. The Keyblade's chosen one."

The teen stopped. He turned his head to view Axel over his shoulder and glared at the man with angry eyes. "Number 13…?" he echoed in a dead voice.

"_There's something wrong,"_ Axel thought. _"He might attack me. I'd better get ready."_ He loosened his arms, preparing to spring them out and call forth his chakrams.

Roxas rolled his head to the side and heaved a deep breath. He turned around to stare Axel dead in the eyes. "Is that what I am—a number to you? You've screwed around with twelve other guys before catching me in your trap?"

Axel's eyes narrowed. He didn't understand anything, but he knew that strange girl was responsible for Roxas's warped personality. He'd make her pay.

The two engaged in a long staring match until the waitress came back with a tray in hand. "Here's your order!" she chirped.

In one fluid motion, Roxas grabbed a mug of hot chocolate off the tray and splashed its scorching contents onto Axel's face. "Jackass." With that, Roxas stomped out of the café.

Meanwhile, Axel was on the floor rolling in pain. Some of the boiling chocolate got into his eyes, and for whatever reason, his powers weren't reacting to absorb the heat.

"Tsk, tsk! That's not how you're supposed to act!" squealed an all-too familiar voice. "Of course he'd walk out on you like that!"

Axel forced himself onto his feet, hunched over in pain with only one eye opened. "You!" he growled, eyeing the deranged girl with the fuzzy, pink notebook. "You did this!"

"Like, duh!" she giggled.

"You picked the wrong Nobody to mess with, girlie!" He flung his arms out and tried to call forth his chakrams but failed. His agitation melted into a self-spiting smirk. "Heh, you did something to my powers?"

"You don't need them, silly! You're hot enough without the power of fire, if you know what I mean," she said with a suggestive smirk.

"No, I don't know what you mean. Now either give me back my partner or I'll just have to take you out the old fashion way!"

"Squee!! You called him your 'partner'!" the crazed girl shrieked, reaching a pitch Axel didn't believe to be humanly possible. "That gives me a _great_ idea!"

Before Axel could jump out and strangle the girl, he found himself tangled in another mess of pink tentacles and pulled into another abyss.

* * *

Roxas sat slumped at a cramped desk in a small classroom. He was awakened by a spit wad to the head and jumped at attention, hands automatically positioning themselves to wield the Keyblade. "Strike Raid!" he shouted, flinging his hand in the air and whacking the girl sitting in front of him up-side the head with an empty palm.

"Ouch, you jerk! Why did you do that?"

"Huh…?" Roxas stared with wide, confused eyes. That wasn't the estranged girl! Heck, he'd never seen that particular girl in his entire life! And hey, where was the Keyblade?

"Mr. Strife!" shouted the man at the very front of the room, standing before the expansive, black chalkboard. "Is there some reason why you're assaulting your fellow classmates and crying random outbursts in the middle of my lecture?"

"Strife…?" Roxas echoed, not sure if that name was meant to address him.

"Now apologize to Ms. Tilmitt and take your seat! You have detention!"

But Roxas just stood there, uncertain where he was or what to do. He looked around the room in hopes of regaining his bearings, but the two-dozen unfamiliar facing staring at him from their own desks confused him even more.

"Hey, teach! It's cool! Roxy's sorry—aint'cha, Roxy?" Two comforting hands came to rest on Roxas's shoulders from behind, and Roxas craned his head enough to catch sight of Axel's left eye. "He's just having an off day. We all have those, right?"

"Very well," relented the teacher. "Both of you just take your seats and let me get through this lesson."

"You're the boss, teach," Axel said with smirk. He then whispered in Roxas's ear, "You owe me one, Roxy," before sliding back down into his seat.

"Axel, what are you—"

"Mr. Strife, sit down or I will give you detention!"

Not wanting to draw any further attention to himself before analyzing the situation to its fullest, Roxas complied and crouched back into his own seat.

With a satisfied nod, the teacher continued in his lecture. All the while, kids continued to stare at Roxas—some giggling while other snickering. The Nobody didn't have the slightest idea what to make of the situation. He knew that estranged girl to be responsible, but as he scanned the sea of faces, he couldn't spot her anywhere. Axel was the only one he knew, but he didn't want to risk talking to him just yet. Though, his best friend's behavior appeared rather odd.

"_Since when does he call me 'Roxy'?"_ he wondered. _"Maybe it's a new codename…? Even so, it sounds too weird. Or maybe Axel knows something about this world that I don't? Hmm…"_

A loud ringing snapped Roxas from his thoughts and he yet again shot up from his seat in a defensive position. All the students pushed from their own seats, taking backpacks and notebooks with them as they shuffled out the door.

"Remember, your research articles are due tomorrow!" the teacher called after his students. He then turned his attention to Roxas, who was scrutinizing the exiting crowd with narrow eyes. "Mr. Strife, a word if you please." Of course, Roxas had already forgotten that the odd name was to be associated with him and didn't respond until Axel slapped him on the shoulder.

"See you after your meeting with the teach," he said with a wink before disappearing out the door.

"But, Axel—"

"Mr. Strife. _Now._"

Cautioning his way up to codename _Teach_, Roxas approached the target like Axel had taught him. He kept a careful eye on his target and kept his knees bent as he shuffled closer to the man.

"What do you think you're doing, Mr. Strife?" the teacher sighed, holding his head.

"What do you want?" he asked curtly, avoiding the teacher's inquiry.

The teacher sighed again. "Listen, Roxas…"

"_He knows my name?"_

"I know you've been struggling to keep your grades up ever since your mother passed on, but that doesn't excuse you from lashing out at a fellow classmate."

"_Mother…? Huh?"_

"Please, Roxas," the teacher said, looking the teen in the eyes with concern. "Try to compose yourself."

Roxas simply stared.

"Okay?"

"Err…" The Nobody didn't quite understand the conversation, but nodded anyway. Though he did so with narrowed eyes, waiting for the second the target would shed his disguise and reveal his true Heartless form.

"Good! Now go on, it's lunchtime," the teacher said, before grabbing his briefcase and shuffling out the door. Roxas was left alone in the classroom, not certain of what just happened. What did a Heartless care for lunchtime?

With many questions running through his mind, Roxas wandered off in search of Axel. Surely his best friend could shed some light on things! He roamed the halls, passing giggling girls and snickering guys. Some formed little circles around the various walls of lockers while others strolled in one direction or another in leisure.

"Yo, Roxy! Where're ya going?" shouted Axel. He pushed himself off the locker he was leaning on and dashed up to the younger Nobody.

"Axel, what's going on?"

"You mean with all the kids?"

Roxas nodded. There were too many kids and not enough Heartless; that is, unless the kids were Heartless in disguise somehow. Axel had to know a strategy to reveal their true forms!

"Well," Axel began with a smirk, "you _did_ make yourself out to be the class clown with that crazy battle cry. That was a good one, Roxy! 'Strike Raid!' Ha!"

"What are you talking about?" Roxas asked, his face expressionless. That confused Axel.

"Are you okay, Roxy?"

"Why are you calling me that? If you want to use codenames for this mission, you could always use my number."

To that, Axel raised an eyebrow and rubbed the back of his head. "Well gee, Roxy… I just thought, you know, since we're going out and all…"

"Going out where?" Roxas asked, his eyebrows now knitted with determination. He didn't quite understand Axel's code words, though. "Did you find out where that girl is? So she's outside?"

Axel blinked. "Huh? Girl…?"

"You know—the girl! The one with the notebook!"

"Roxas, if…if this is about your mom, I—"

"I don't know why you're acting this way, Axel, but we've got a job to do. You said it yourself: she's just like a Heartless! We've got to vanquish her and then find a way back to Twilight Town!"

Axel's complexion paled and his eyes saddened. He reached out and took a hold of Roxas's hands, caressing them with his own. "Roxas…" he whispered. "Roxas, we're _in_ Twilight Town. Please don't do this…"

Taken completely aback by the older Nobody's actions, Roxas yanked his hands away and spaced himself. He gritted his teeth, fists shaking at his sides. "You," he seethed, "are not Axel."

Closing his eyes and holding the bridge of his nose, Axel let out a shaky sigh. "Please, Roxas. Please don't give them a reason to send you back to the nut house. I don't want to lose you again!"

"You're a Heartless!" Roxas held out his hands and willed the Keyblade to him…but it never appeared. Despite his numerous tries to call forth his might blade, the burst of light never reached his palm and he stood there in the middle of the hall looking as though he was constipated.

"Roxas…maybe you should go home," Axel said, offering his hand. "Come on, I'll take you to the nurse."

Roxas jerked away from the hand shouting, "Stay away from me, Heartless! I don't know what magic you're using to block the Keyblade, but I'll find a way to break it!"

A tear trickled down Axel's cheek. "You don't mean that, Roxas…do you? Heartless? Me? But I—"

"The next time you want to try and trick me, at least check your facts. Nobodies like me and Axel can't cry because we don't have hearts."

With one last heart-shattered glance, Axel turned around and walked away with his shoulders hunched. A low sniffling echoed down the hall until he rounded the corner and disappeared. The action confused Roxas. Why didn't the pseudo-Axel attack him?

"Oh dear, you're not going about it right, either!"

Roxas swerved around and stood face-to-face with the strange, pink-notebook-totting girl. "You!"

"I'm just going to have to try harder next time," she said with a sigh.

"I don't know what you've done to Axel, but—"

Before Roxas could finish his sentence, pink tentacles pulled him down into a pink portal.

* * *

To be continued…


	2. Chapter 2

A rough shove awoke Roxas from his slumber, jolting him back to his senses.

"You are late, Number 13," said an all-too familiar voice. Roxas looked up with confused eyes and saw the Superior leering down at him.

"Late?" he asked. "For what?"

"The trial," Xemnas stated, spinning Roxas around and giving his back another shove.

"Trial…?" Roxas didn't struggle against the Superior, allowing the older Nobody to force him out a door. They marched outside onto a grassy hill where dozens of people had crowded around cheering and taking photos.

"Remember, Number 13," the Superior said, stopping him before a skateboard and tossing a helmet over Roxas's head. "I'm placing my confidence in you. Should you fail, you will be in my debt for a _long_ time." He buckled the helmet's straps, tightening them before straightening the white racing bib on Roxas's chest that read "13". Backing away with a curt nod, the Superior disappeared into the crowd.

"Wait—what?" Roxas rolled his eyes up to look at the helmet's visor, not sure what to make of it. Since when did he need a helmet to chase after the Heartless?

"Please get on your board, sir," said a man dressed in black and white vertical stripes. The silver whistle around his neck jiggled as he swung lifted his arms to point to the skateboard.

"But—"

"If you don't hurry, they'll disqualify you," the referee pressed.

"Don't fail me, Number 13!" Xemnas shouted from the sidelines.

Giving a feeble nod, Roxas got onto the board.

"And next up in the Twilight Town Skateboarding Entrance Trials is racer #13—Roxas Fujiyashiyama!"

"_Fujiyashi-what?"_

"Ready? Set? …GO!" A gun fired, taking Roxas by surprise. He lurched his body forward out of reflex, which moved the skateboard forward and started its roll downhill. The skateboard flew past all the markers, flipping through a series of hoops set ablaze, swerving through a pack of rabid dogs and a tank of hungry sharks, until finally speeding straight through the finish line at record time. Cheers roared atop the hill and everyone clapped until their hands went raw.

But Roxas didn't stop. He continued down through the streets, picking up momentum as he did so. It wasn't until a huge pickup truck slammed into him, sending the young Nobody flying through a series of windows and landing into a bed of flowers that he came to a halt.

The next time he opened his eyes, he found himself lying in a comfortable bed dressed with fine silk linens.

"You're awake! Thank goodness!"

Roxas blinked a few times, trying to get the blurb rushing towards him into focus. "Axel…?" he groaned.

"Shh…try not to overexert yourself," Axel said, taking one of Roxas's bandaged hands into his. "You've been out cold for the past two weeks!"

"Two weeks?!" Roxas jerked upright, now fully alert. "I've been unconscious that long? What happened with the mission? Did you complete it without me?"

"Yes, it's been two weeks," Axel said, rubbing the younger Nobody's hand with his thumb. "I managed to bandage all your wounds and nurse you back to health. You're very fortunate that I was cruising by in my limo and saw the accident."

"_Limo? Huh?"_ Roxas looked down at Axel's hand on his and jerked it away. _"Oh no… he's another Heartless masquerading as Axel! He won't fool me!"_

"Are you alright, Roxas?" Axel asked with a worried look. "You're not…you're not upset with me are you?"

Roxas scowled. "Who are you?" he demanded.

Axel sighed and adverted his gaze. After a brief pause he moved to sit in the chair positioned at Roxas's bedside. "I knew you'd ask that eventually," he said, letting out another sigh. "You're entitled to an answer. But it's just…difficult to say. I've taken up so many roles recently."

"Tell me," Roxas pressed, watching Axel with a scrutinizing gaze. He prepared himself to leap out of the bed and enter a defensive stance in case the Heartless shed its disguise.

"I know you must've read about me in the papers."

"_Papers? What?"_

"I've been away from Twilight Town a long time, Roxas." He let out a small chuckle. "You have no idea how happy I am that you haven't forgotten me."

"_What's this Heartless doing—trying to psyche me out?"_ Roxas shifted in his bed, slipping his hands under the covers and rolling them into fists regardless of the bandages.

"When I left home to seek out my fortune, I led an even harder life than I did here. It wasn't easy, you know. But I managed to score big when a record producer heard me singing some orphans to sleep in an alley one night."

"_I've never encountered a Heartless like this. He's trying to lower my defenses by talking nonsense, but it won't work. The second he thinks he has me, I'll counterattack."_

"He got me a contract with a huge record company where I spent three years churning out several big hits." Axel smirked and looked up at Roxas. "Ever hear the song _'Eternal Flame'_ by the artist _Flurry_?"

"Uh…"

"I performed it."

"Really…"

"Yeah." Axel said with a nod. "Was number one on the charts for eight months." He crossed his legs and leaned back into the chair. "Anyway, during my walk to the studio one day, a photographer caught me in his viewfinder and ran up to me. He said I had the hottest looking hipbones he's ever seen and he signed me up to model for underwear."

"_First I'm going to give him an uppercut to the jaw,"_ Roxas thought. _"Then I'll send a kick to his chest, three punches into his abdomen, and finish him off with a kick to the head."_

"From there, I went into cologne advertising until my photographer's brother—a big-named Hollywood producer—offered me a role in the movie _Advent Children_. Did you see that movie? I played Reno."

Roxas shook his head absently, still processing the battle strategy in his head.

"I got a few more roles after that, but showbiz wasn't for me. Using the millions of dollars I had accumulated, I started my own record company, skateboard-manufacturing plant, computer corporation, and finally opened a line of multi-cultural restaurants."

"_Some Heartless have the ability to use magic, and without my Keyblade, parrying will be rather difficult._" Roxas looked around the room and spotted a silver tray with various antiseptics and medical supplies. _"Maybe I can use that as a shield. Silver has excellent repulsion properties."_

"But you know," Axel continued, his countenance drooping in spirits. "No matter how many billions of dollars I made, I was never happy." Reaching into his breast pocket, he pulled out a fading, wrinkled photograph. After gazing at it for several seconds and running his thumb affectionately over it, he held it up for Roxas to see. "I waited for the day to come back to you."

Roxas narrowed his eyes at the picture—one depicting him eating sea-salt ice cream. _"So that's his power, huh? I'm beginning to understand now. He's been working dark magicks on my picture! He must've taken my picture and seen into my memories by focusing on it!"_ He slapped the picture away and jumped out of bed.

"What are you doing?" Axel exclaimed.

"Shut up!" Roxas growled through gritted teeth. Spinning on his heel, he lunged at the silver tray and knocked all the contents off it before holding it up to shield his face.

"I didn't mean to upset you, Roxas," Axel said, getting up from his chair. "I know it must've been a shock for you to hear all that, but you've got to calm down. You're still not 100% healed."

Not even bothering to answer, Roxas sped straight into Axel, whacking the taller Nobody with the tray. He then followed up with an uppercut to the man's jaw, three punches to his gut, and a final kick to his head.

Roxas watched as the pseudo-Axel toppled to the ground unconscious. Hovering over him, Roxas waited for the Heartless to show its true form. But even after three minutes, nothing happened.

"I don't get it," Roxas said, confusion weighing heavy in his tone. "Why is it still retaining Axel's face? I know I hit it hard enough to shatter its illusion!" He opted to wait two more minutes, and when the Heartless failed to show itself, Roxas turned for the door.

"_I've got to find the real Axel!"_ Roxas thought as he sped down the numerous halls within the large mansion. _"And if I can't, then I need to find the Heartless girl and defeat her on my own."_ After traversing a seemingly endless catacomb of lavish, pristine, cute, polished, unblemished, dreamy, beautiful halls and rooms, Roxas made it to the exit. He pushed through the solid gold, diamond-studded doors and found himself in the middle of a huge, wonderful garden. It was so beautiful that anyone with a heart would simply sigh with half-lidded eyes and frolic through the endless fields of roses, geraniums, irises, daffodils, lilies, orchids, chrysanthemums, and just about every other kind of flower known to man.

Such a magnificent garden was a treasure all on its own, with an unparalleled charm that—a high-pitched squeal echoed in the distance, spurring Roxas to follow it. He charged through the flowers, crunching them under his bandaged feet as he did so until he found himself back on the highway. Not stopping to look both ways, Roxas ran onto the road. A car driven by a drunken high school senior smoking a cigarette, cigar, and marijuana while injecting himself with heroin using one hand and snorting cocaine using the other sped straight towards the young Nobody. Roxas stopped, his eyes widening like a deer caught in the headlights as he watched the car dart straight for him only to swerve off-road and crash into a tree. Not caring, Roxas continued on his way to find his best friend until an airplane fell from the sky and crushed him.

Again, Roxas awoke in the comfortable, silk bed.

"Oh, Roxas!" Axel cried, shooting up from the chair at the younger Nobody's bedside. "I feared the worst!"

"What…?"

Axel threw his arms around Roxas's head, giving the teen a hug while crying into his shoulder. "If the pilot didn't swerve the plane to the side at the last minute," he sobbed, "you wouldn't be alive right now!"

"Get off me!" Roxas shouted. He tried to free himself from Axel's hold, but his limbs were all bandaged in a large body cast.

"I know you feel like I've abandoned you," Axel said, pushing away enough to see Roxas's face. "And I know that you must be hurt inside, but you have to know that I care about you, Roxas!"

"Shut up!" Biting down hard, Roxas jerked his arm with enough force to break it free of its casing.

"Roxas, stop!" Axel pleaded, throwing his body over Roxas to try and pin down the teen.

"I won't let you kill me, Heartless!" The freed arm slammed into Axel's head, disorienting him long enough for Roxas to free his other limbs. He rolled out of the bed, but Axel had hooked his arms around the younger Nobody's waist.

"Stop!"

A swift kick robbed Axel of all his air—which smelled minty-fresh coming out his mouth. Tearing the bandages off his right hand with his teeth, Roxas curled his freed appendages into a fist and punched Axel's perfectly straight, pearly whites. The million dollar dental job cracked along with the taller Nobody's jaw, and he once again fell unconscious to the floor.

Not even bothering to wait for the Heartless to shed its skin, Roxas hobbled out the door and kept on going until he found his way back into town. _"Where's that Heartless girl?"_ he wondered while ridding himself of the remaining bandages. He realized as he watched the white strips of cloth fall to the ground that he didn't even need them. With a flex of his muscles, his body felt like a million bucks.

"Of course you feel good!"

Roxas jerked his head to the side and glared at the deranged girl holding the pink notebook. "There you are!"

"Tee-hee!" The girl winked at Roxas, provoking him to attack. But just as he lunged himself at her, his body froze in mid-air much like Axel's did before this whole mishap started. "You feel so healthy and strong because Axel took care of you, silly! But poowr wittle Woxy just isn't getting into it yet…" she said as though she were talking to a baby. Pinching the Nobody's cheek with a giggle, she summoned a pink portal to send Roxas off into another crazy fantasy world of hers.

* * *

Axel paced around the men's restroom within some random building. He had yet to peek outside the door to get a gist of where that crazy chick transported him to this time since his reflection in the mirror didn't prove at all encouraging. After awakening in one of the stalls, he pushed his way out towards the sinks where he saw his heavy winter attire had been swapped for a tuxedo.

The tux fit snuggly around his frame. It accentuated his handsome and muscular features while the black brought out his deep green eyes and silky red ha—Axel's ears perked to the faint and familiar signature squeal of that crazy girl. He stopped pacing and shot his gaze all around the tiled restroom, but to no avail.

In one last desperate gesture, he flung himself at the nearest sink, gripping the white porcelain tight and sticking his head close to the drain. He peered an eye down the hole in hopes that it served as a portal to the girl's realm. But no matter how hard he looked down, only an endless black greeted his gaze. Moving from sink to sink, he tried his luck with all of them. But the girl was nowhere to be found and her squealing had long ceased.

"_Logic says that crazy chick with the notebook is the one making all the rules for this world,"_ Axel thought to himself as he pushed from the final sink and continued to pace. "_I think she's somehow controlling Roxas—probably because he hasn't been a Nobody for as long as I have or something like that. If that even makes sense."_

He stopped to look at his finely polished shoes—ones that were so shiny he could see his reflection. Furrowing his brows in frustration, he kicked the ground just to spite the shiny things, but they retained their sheen no matter how hard he dragged them along the floor. _"Whatever the case, I've got to find Roxas. If I can't snap him out of it, I'll get creative and find a way to burn that crazy chick without my powers. There will be no mercy from The Flurry of Dancing—"_

A loud banging sounded at the locked door. "Hey, Axel! Are you still in there? Hurry up, man! It's gonna start soon!"

Axel's eyes narrowed at the door. At first he thought his ears were playing tricks on him, but the voice spoke again.

"Come on, Axel! You'd better not be getting cold feet in there! Let me in!"

"It can't be…" Axel edged his way to the door and unfastened the lock. Not even a second passed before the door swung open and Demyx barged into the room.

"Axel, bro! Are you all set to go?"

"_Bro..?"_

"Everyone's waiting!" Demyx exclaimed with a smile so huge that his cheeks looked about ready to spilt. He threw his hands up into the air only to send them wrapping around his tuxedo-clad self in a tight hug a second later. "Oh man! I'm so happy for you, Ax! So, so, _so_ happy that I feel the joy tingling all through my bones! It's all so warm and fuzzy-wuzzy!!"

Axel raised an eyebrow. "Remind me again why you're 'happy' for me?" he asked, studying the Nobody's gestures. He'd never seen Demyx talk so much with his hands yet alone proclaim to "feel" such extreme emotions.

"Aww, trying to stall, are we?" he said with a little laugh, sliding his hands to rest on his hips. "It's your big day, silly! And I'm your best man!"

"Best man?" Axel choked, ignoring the context of the words. He truly believed that Demyx somehow managed to enter the world created by that strange girl in order to aid the two Nobodies already in pursuit of her. "I already have Roxas for that. Besides, I don't even like you! We hardly speak to each other, you're a freaking aqua maniac that douses my flames, and—and why in the _hell_ are you so damn cheery?"

"Because!!" Demyx squealed, too drunk on happiness to be offended by any of Axel's claims. "You're finally tying the knot!"

"Tying the…what?" Axel raised an eyebrow.

Demyx didn't even bother to clarify, opting instead to go off on a wild tangent that Axel couldn't hope to understand. It wasn't until a second knock—a much softer knock—sounded at the door that the bubbly blond put a clamp on it.

The door creaked open and Axel's jaw dropped by a small margin.

"You two are taking too long," said the newcomer. "And I suspect _you_ had something to do with it, Demyx. Eating Axel's ear off again?"

Demyx smiled a cheesy grin and rubbed the back of his neck. "Aww, you know me, Zexy! I'm just fantasizing about the day we'll be tying the knot."

"That's all well and good, but we have to go now. The ceremony is set to begin."

Axel stared at the newcomer, eyes narrowing. "What the—Zexion?!"

"You look surprised," replied the Nobody.

Gritting his teeth, Axel took a defensive stance. "So you've come back for revenge, eh?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Don't play dumb with me, schemer!" Axel spat. "I killed you—or rather, I deceived Riku's replica into doing it, but it's all the same."

Zexion's face contorted with confusion. "I'm not following you, Axel. Are you perhaps delirious? Has the stress gotten to you?"

"He's just got cold feet, Zexy," Demyx said with a sympathetic grin. "I bet once we haul him out there, he'll snap back to his senses!" He took hold of Axel's arm and started leading him towards the door. "C'mon, bro! Let's get goin'!"

"Oh no you don't!" Axel shoved free of Demyx's grip and punched the Nobody square in the gut. Before Zexion could react, Axel sent a roundhouse kick square into the Cloaked Schemer's jaw. "Ha, how's _that_ for creative!" Both Nobodies fell to the floor writhing in pain, and Axel didn't even bother reflecting over how weak their bodies were to double over with such ease. He bolted out the door and ran down the hallway without a second thought.

"Come on out, girlie!" he beckoned with a devilish smirk. "I know you're here somewhere! Come out and face me!"

After running through a lobby and past a mob of people in elegant dress, Axel slid to a stop and eyed the two grand mahogany doors ahead of him. _"Of course—the ballroom! The big catch is always in a grand arena!"_

Somewhere very far yet very near, a deranged girl holding a fuzzy pink pen giggled at Axel's choice of words.

Axel kicked down the doors extra hard, hoping to both scare the stockings right off that girl and scrape his shiny shoes to oblivion in the process. Seriously, any shoes that shiny had to be demonic and cursed. Inside, a large crucifix carved out of ivory towered over a wooden podium. White roses decorated the whole room and a red, velvet carpet led from the door to the podium, dividing the room's seating arrangement in half. Axel stomped down the carpet, his shoes getting shinier with each brush along the velvet. But he didn't care anymore. Once he reached that crazy, blond-haired dame dressed in that white…_tuxedo_…? Wait a minute, that wasn't a dame!

"Roxas…?"

"And here I thought you were going to stand me up at the altar," the younger Nobody said with a playful smirk.

Axel's brows furrowed. "Roxas, what's—"

"Now that the groom is here, we may continue the proceedings!" interrupted a priest—one Axel just noticed. He took a closer look at the room, noting the masses of people dressed in formal attire who occupied the seats that lined the room. Among the people sitting on his side of the velvet carpet, he spotted the remaining members of the Organization—including the Superior! Xemnas caught his gaze, giving Axel an assuring _smile._ The Superior _smiled_—he _smiled_ at _Axel_. And then he winked!

"_How powerful is this chick if she's managed to gain control of Xemnas?! Why am I the only one not under her spell?"_

The priest opened the book that rested on the podium and began to read its text, effectively tearing Axel away from his thoughts. "Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to join these two in holy matrimony."

"Wait, what?" Axel snapped his head to the priest, who had taken a long pause to re-read over the text in his mind before continuing. Either that or he was trying out for a dramatic approach.

"Can you believe it, Axel?" Roxas whispered during the pause. "We're going to be partners for life."

Axel's eyes went wide. _"That insane, freaky girl! Is that what she meant?"_

The priest licked his dry finger and flipped the page. With a shake of his head, he closed the book and sighed. "Unfortunately, someone replaced my book with a hard-copy of fanfiction. It's quite vivid and I don't recall half these antics being done at a wedding. We'll just have to skip to the parts I know from memory."

"That's not a problem," Roxas replied.

"Ahem," the priest cleared his throat and looked at Roxas. "Do you, Roxas—"

"Don't even _think_ of finishing that!"

All eyes fell on Axel, who just ignored them. He grabbed hold of Roxas and shook him by the shoulders. "Snap out of this, Roxas!"

"What are you doing, Axel?" Roxas demanded with a scowl.

"Roxas, don't be deceived! This is all an elaborate hoax!"

Though he didn't say anything, Roxas's eyes went wide.

"It's not real—this whole place isn't real," Axel pressed. Maybe he could bring Roxas back to his senses yet!

Roxas hung his head, hiding his big, beautiful, ocean blue eyes behind his soft, golden honey-colored—again Axel heard the signature squeal of that crazy chick. He snapped his gaze away from Roxas and shouted, "Come on out, girlie! It's time to finish this!"

"I can't believe you…"

"Huh?" Axel looked back down at Roxas, whose voice sounded much darker.

"I can't believe you, Axel," he repeated, still keeping his eyes hidden. His hands clenched into fists at his sides and trembled with fury. "I can't believe you waited until this special day to tell me it was all a _lie!_"

"What?" Axel gaped.

"So you've got a girlfriend, Axel?" Roxas sneered, now showing his features. Face warped by agony and rage, he locked his grief-stricken eyes with Axel's. "And you've decided to bring her out to show to everyone today, is that it?"

Axel sighed, hunching his shoulders. "Fine. I see how it is. I'm just not going to get through to you, am I?"

"I think you've made yourself perfectly clear, asshole!"

"I guess I'll just have to _beat_ the sense back into you!" Axel lunged himself at Roxas, tackling his protégé to the ground. The two wrestled each other, tearing away at their finely pressed tuxedos—ones that didn't damage in the least no matter how many times sharp nails dug into their fabrics.

"I hate you, Axel! I hate you!" Roxas cried, tears streaming down his cheeks.

"Aww, I'm_ so_ _flattered_ that you'd 'feel' hatred just for me!" He sent a fist packing straight into Roxas's jaw, who retaliated with a knee to Axel's stomach.

Just when Axel had his best friend in a headlock, two pairs of arms wound around his shoulders and yanked him clear off the younger Nobody.

"Axel, what the hell, man?!" Demyx screeched.

"You crazy-pyromaniac-fiendish-jerk!" shouted a new voice.

"_I know that voice. He's here, too?"_

Axel swerved his neck to see the second guy who hauled him off of Roxas. "It's you! But you can't be here! Naminé was supposed to have—"

"_Naminé?_" Roxas cried. "You've been cheating on me with that bitch Naminé?!"

"First of all, it's pronounced '_witch_'. She's a special Nobody that we've classified as a witch, but you wouldn't know tha—ah, forget it." Axel shook his head and threw his arms up in the air. "This isn't worth my sanity."

"You don't _have_ any sanity!" shouted that other voice. "What psychopath waits until his wedding day to admit to his betrothed that he has a girlfriend?!"

"Sora, shut up," Axel said, pushing to his feet. "Go back to Castle Oblivion or wherever and take a snooze in your pod."

"Don't you talk to my brother like that!" Roxas growled, getting to his own feet and wiping away the blood streaming down his jaw. The red fluid stained his white tuxedo, and somewhere, a deranged, pink-loving fangirl cried at the sight/thought of it.

"Oh please." Axel smirked and shook his head. "He's not your brother. Though I find the thought rather amusing." He let out a small chuckle. "Only a crazed, notebook-wielding chick could pull this off, I suppose."

Roxas didn't reply with words. He instead kicked Axel below the belt as hard as he could before stomping out of the ballroom.

"Argh!" Axel fell to his knees, his face contorted in pain. But the feeling didn't last too long, and when he eased back to his feet, he did so in an emptied ballroom.

"Whatever am I going to do with you?" sighed the familiar, annoying voice of that kooky girl.

"How about you get me and Roxas out of here!" Axel spun around and made a grab for the girl, but his body froze when his fingers came within two inches of her.

"I think someone needs more lovey-dovey love, tee-hee! I'm sending you to a happier place this time, squee! Maybe there you'll get along with all your bishi friends better!"

With a snap of the girl's fingers, a pink portal opened to swallow Axel.


	3. Chapter 3

The strong aroma of vintage cheese and wine snapped Axel back to consciousness. His eyes wide alert, he wasted no time in assessing his current situation.

He sat at one of many small, round tables fit for two within a dimly lit room. The main source of light came from the candles on each table as well as he low intensity lambs hanging from the ceiling. Faint, romantic music played in the background, drowned out by the idle chatting of the other patrons within the room. Every table contained happy, love struck couples, laughing and chatting while either sipping red wine or eating some of the strangest food Axel had ever seen. Were those _snails_…?

"_Where the heck am I now? Some kind of kooky restaurant?"_ he wondered.

"Sorry I'm late."

"Huh…?" Axel looked across the table to see Roxas pull up a chair.

"My cousin went and found the stash of Red Bull and you know how Sora gets when he's had energy drinks…" he explained after yanking off his jacket and taking a seat.

"Oh, so he's your _cousin_ now?"

Roxas raised his eyebrow. "What do you mean by that?"

Axel simply shook his head, not bothering to answer. He gave the new arrival the once-over, noticing the white dress shirt with a black and white checkered tie. "Let me guess: We're here for dinner?"

"Well yeah, moron." Roxas let out an affectionate laugh. "You're the one who asked me out tonight saying you had something you wanted to tell me—something best discussed during an elegant, eight-course meal at the most expensive restaurant in town."

"Really…"

"Yeah…" Roxas adverted his gaze and paused. "So…what did you want to tell me?" he asked, looking up side-ways at Axel with a bashful and expectant glance.

Axel, however, went stock-still. Something inside of him snapped—or at least, he pretended that it did. It's hard for heartstrings to snap when they don't exist. And after throwing together his little ruse of being internally upset, angry, and irritated, he softened the muscles in his face and sprang to life with a big, cheesy grin.

"Now, now, Roxas!" he boomed with gusto. "Let's get to that eight-course meal first! There'll be time for life-changing conversations later."

Roxas gulped. "Life…changing?"

"That's what I said," Axel grinned. He got up from his seat and pushed in his chair.

"Where are you going…?"

"Why, to get a_ special_ surprise for my _special_ someone!"

"S-special s-someone…??" Roxas stuttered, his cheeks reddening.

"But of course!" Axel replied with a sly smirk. "I'll be right back, so don't you go anywhere."

Somewhere very far yet very near, a crazed fangirl was patting herself on the back for finally converting the Flurry of Dancing Flames over to the slashfic side. Bursting with so much squeamish, fangirly glee, she failed to notice how the narrator referred to him by his title rather than his name. How unfortunate.

Meanwhile, Axel hummed a merry little tune as he strode to the front of the restaurant. There, the headwaiter stood behind a podium greeting the various guests walking through the door. "Excuse me," Axel said, tapping the headwaiter on the shoulder.

"Oui, monsieur?"

"There's a serious problem with your bathroom. Would you mind coming in to see this?"

"Un problème avec la salle de bain?"

"Yes, un _big_ problème. Now hurry up!"

"Je suis désolé, mais je ne peux pas aller en ce moment. S'il vous plaît demander à un autre garçon."

Giving a nod, Axel spun on his heel and headed for the bathroom only to stop when he realized the headwaiter failed to follow him. He turned around and marched right back up to the podium. "Aren't you coming?"

"Demandez à un autre garçon, s'il vous plaît. J'ai d'accueillir les clients!"

"I didn't understand a word of that," Axel groaned. "Do you speak any other language besides French?"

The headwaiter gave an understanding sigh and asked. "Parla italiano?"

"No."

"Sprechen sie Deutsch?"

"No."

"Erm…" The headwaiter paused for a moment, scrunching his brows in deep thought. "Nihongo ga hanasemasu ka?"

"Oh for crying out loud! Can't you see that I speak English?" Axel shouted, furrowing his angry brows.

"But of course, monsieur. I only tried other languages because you asked."

"Yeah, right," Axel scoffed. "What a complete, total, and annoying waste of my time. Now follow me to the bathroom!"

"I just told you, monsieur! I must be here to greet the guests! Please ask another waiter."

Axel leaned in close to the headwaiter's face, poking him on the chest with his index finger as he spoke. "What kind of establishment are you trying to run here, pal? You're the manager, right?"

"Oui, but—"

"And that means you have to make sure all your customers are happy, right?"

"Oui, oui—"

"Well, _I'm not happy_, and it's your duty to make sure that I'm able to go do my business in your restroom so that I _become happy_. Otherwise I'll just stomp right out of here, call my food critic brother and have him demote your 5-star establishment to half a star if you're lucky." He paused and then added, "That's _food critic brother._ Got it memorized?"

The extra emphasis sent the headwaiter into a panic. "Oui, monsieur. Let's go." Drops of sweat went flying from his head as he abandoned his post and hurried to the bathroom.

"Heh, now we're talking." Axel sneaked up to the podium where several bowls containing mints, toothpicks, and matchbooks were aligned for customers. He grabbed two handfuls of complimentary matchbooks with the restaurant's logo on them, stuffing everything into his pockets before chasing after the headwaiter.

Inside the bathroom, the headwaiter busied himself inspect the sinks and toilets looking for any signs of flooding. "Where is the problem, monsieur?" he asked as Axel walked in, closing the door behind him. "I can't see anything wrong."

"Well, sir," Axel said while bolting the door shut, "there's an unconscious body in one of the stalls." He cracked his knuckles as a dark, sinister grin spread across his lips.

Minutes later, Axel strolled out of the bathroom wearing the headwaiter's clothes.

"_Sunshine, lollipops, and rainbows, everything that's wonderful is what I feel when doo-doo-doo-doo!_" He made a beeline for the kitchen, tossing open the double-doors and capturing the attention of all the chefs and waiters with his grand entrance. "Hello, hello! I'll be filling in for the headwaiter today since he's gone home with a bad headache and a few broken bones."

"Broken…bones?" echoed one chef, confused.

"Oh, yes," replied Axel. "He apparently ticked off one of his more aggressive customers by refusing to speak the English language. But enough of that. Ladies and gentlemen, we will be doing something surprising and spectacular for our dear, dear, _dear_ patrons tonight." A devilish smirk sprouted along his face.

"Liek, OMG!1!" screeched one of the waitresses. "Are we, liek, gonna, liek, set off fireworkzorz againzorz!?"

Axel stared at her for a few seconds before shoving her to the side where she went crashing into a collection of large, metal pots. "First, by a show of hands, who here speaks English?"

All minus three chefs raised their hands.

"And who amongst you raising your hands speaks perfect, _coherent_ English?"

All minus one girl lowered their hands.

"You there," he said, calling to the only girl raising her hand. "I need lots of alcohol. Get everything we have and bring it to the lobby for me. And after you do that, go get more fuel for the grills. Pick up twenty—no, forty tanks of propane."

"Are we throwing a party for an honored guest?" asked the waitress.

A mischievous glint twinkled in Axel's eye. "That's right, everyone! This here's a party for our guest of honor this evening!"

The girl who was shoved to the side sprung up with a pot over her head and squealed. "Liek, ZOMG!1! Is it a princezorz?!! It's a princezorz, yay!! And I'll get to, liek, waitzorz him and then he'll, liek, totally see what a, liek, super-cool jobzorz I do and he'll liek, TOTALLY wanna go outzorz wit meh—"

Taking a rolling pin in hand and banging it against the girl's potted head, Axel used the drum roll to rally the others. "Hurry up, people!" he ordered. "Chefs, you start making the greasiest food you can slap together within twenty minutes! Come on, chop, chop! The more grease you use, the happier you'll make our special guest!"

Saluting their new manager, the chefs hurriedly returned to work. Kegs of oil and grease were poured into pots and pans of all shapes and sizes as they prepared an extravagant feast for their mystery guest of honor.

Back in the lobby, the only intelligible girl on the workforce finished yanking out the last crate of the establishment's finest liquor. "Is this enough, sir?" she asked as Axel fished around the crates and yanked out several bottles for inspection.

"Ah, alcohol," Axel sighed. "The only best friend I'll ever have in this world." A slight twitch rippled through his face. He then paused, blinked, and looked back at the waitress. "What of the propane?"

"We only had 15 tanks, sir…" she replied.

"Tch… that's it? Oh well, it'll have to do. Where did you deposit them?"

"Near the grills, sir. The head chef's preparing the meat right now."

"The grills are out back?" The girl nodded. "Fine, then. Your next assignment is to go into the kitchen and ensure every gas stove is operating at maximum."

"Huh?" The waitress' eyes went wide. "But surely you don't expect me to tamper with the stove settings the chefs have set?"

"Listen, our special guest likes things _hot_; the hotter, the better. Burn everything to a crisp if you have to. Just make sure _all _the gas stoves are set to _maximum_."

"But—"

"Do this and I will give you five month's worth of pay."

The waitress gaped. "F-f-f-f-f-five…?" Her mouth hung open, unable to do little more than spasm.

"You heard me," Axel smirked.

"Yes, sir! You can count on me!" The waitress saluted and flew into the kitchen to earn her pay.

"Heh, pitiful, predictable huma—_humiliations!_ Her shoe was untied." Axel shrugged, coolly recovering his speech. He started uncorking the various liquor bottles, and when he finished, traveled out back to pay a visit to the head chefs.

"Gentlemen, I require more food for our guest!" Axel said, clapping his hands abruptly to get their attention.

"But we've got five pounds worth of meat here!" exclaimed one chef.

"How shall I put this—our guest of honor has an _insatiable _appetite. Head back into the kitchen and grab some more fish, lamb, and turkey. Chop, chop!" He clapped his hands again, this time with greater urgency, and the chefs abandoned their grills to retrieve more meat from the freezer.

Not leaving a moment to spare, Axel grabbed all the propane tanks he could carry and hauled them back inside the lobby. It required several trips back and forth, but he managed to stash all fifteen tanks inside the restaurant near the crates of uncorked liquor bottles. He then picked up a bottle of wine in each hand and poured their contents all over the tanks. When they emptied, he picked up two more bottles and continued dowsing the tanks, floors, furniture, and even walls of the whole lobby.

"_Fireworkzorz_, indeed. Heh."

Later, Axel returned to Roxas's table carrying a bottle of fine wine, a bottle of vodka, and a bottle of scotch.

"Axel, where in the _hell _have you been?!" Roxas hissed. "I thought you walked out on me, jackass!"

"Sorry, Roxas," Axel said, setting the bottles on the table. "But I have a surprise for you and it's taken me some time to finish the preparations."

Roxas raised an eyebrow and gave the taller man the once-over. "Why are you dressed like that?" he asked, hinting at Axel's obvious change from his burgundy dress shirt to the headwaiter's tuxedo.

"For the occasion, of course," Axel grinned.

"O-oh… Umm… are those drinks for us?"

"You could say that." Axel uncorked the wine bottle and looked at Roxas expectantly. "Well?"

"Huh?"

"Your glass." Axel nudged his head with a grin towards the wine glass resting on the table.

"Oh yeah…" Taking the glass into his hand, Roxas held it up for the drink.

Axel tipped the bottle towards the glass but jerked it back at the last second and upended it _accidentally_ all over Roxas. "Oh, dear! I am ever so sorry, Roxas!" he said with feigned apology.

"Axel…!"

"Here, let me get that!" He bent over with a napkin in hand only to spill the rest of the bottle, drenching Roxas's once white shirt in crimson wine.

"Axel, what the hell?!" Roxas shouted, not caring that he was making a big scene. "You spilled it all on me!"

"Don't worry—I'll fix it!" Tossing the empty bottle over his shoulders, Axel grabbed the vodka and poured that all over the young Nobody too.

"WHAT THE HELL!?!?"

"Oops. Give me one more chance." Before Roxas could reply, Axel went for the scotch and added it atop the wine-vodka concoction.

"Axel, you son of a bitch!!!" screamed the alcohol-drenched teen.

"You know, 'Roxas'," Axel said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a book of matches. "I'm sure you're not that bad of a guy and all, but…" He lit a match, holding it before his dark, dead serious countenance. The dancing flames illuminated his deadly features, adding to the dangerous undertones boiling in his veins. "You're not my best friend."

With a flick of his fingers, Axel sent the lit match flying onto his highly flammable target. He watched as Roxas went up in flames and fell to the ground screaming in agony. Lighting another match, Axel threw it onto a trail of liquor surrounding his table. He then walked away, lighting matches and throwing them onto the alcohol-soaked floors until he arrived at the lobby where the main powder keg awaited. Flames encircled the dining area, scorching everyone still unfortunate enough to have stayed behind for their escargot.

"Heh…ha…haha!" Laughing crazily, Axel lit all his remaining matches and dropped them onto a long trail of brandy leading from his feet to the cluster of propane tanks. With the grease-laden foods stockpiled in the kitchen and all the gas ovens set to max, Axel watched as his liquor fuse traveled towards the tanks. "Burn, baby! Wa-hahaha!" His jade eyes now red, reflecting the intense flames devouring the restaurant, Axel waited in eager anticipation for the big bang!

…But it never came. In the blink of an eye, all the fire vanished along with the restaurant.

"What the heck…?"

"You are a crafty one, aren't you, Axel? Trying to stop me from reading your mind by cluttering it with fake thoughts! Tee-hee! But that's what makes you so uber kawaii!"

"It's _you_, you ditsy dame! C'mere!" With gritted teeth and clenched fists, he jumped out at her with the intent of clawing her to shreds. "You foolish girl, when will you learn I'm a Nobody? I don't have a heart—all I can do is pretend to feel, and that makes me a master pretender. I swear I'll get you or die trying!" But again, as before, he stopped frozen in mid-air without laying a finger on the girl.

"When will _you_ ever learn, my little bishi?" said the crazed girl, pinching his cheek. "Now if only we can get you to feel such passionate love for Roxas that you'll protect him or die trying… That gives me an idea! Tee-hee!" With a snap of her fingers and a twirl of her fuzzy pink pen, the kooky girl sent Axel flying into another pink portal.

* * *

Roxas waded his way through a grimy floor littered with liquor bottles, beer cans, and cigarette butts. Having awakened in a decrepit, rundown house alone with nothing but a moth-eaten potato sack for a shirt and an electric cord used to belt his moth-eaten pants, he made it his first priority to get out onto the streets and start hunting down the Heartless responsible for Axel's disappearance. But just as he reached the door, the knob began to turn on its own. He jumped back and took a defensive stance as the door swung open violently.

However, to both his surprise and dismay, the one standing in the doorway hardly merited such an aggressive entrance. Stumbling into the house was a man Roxas couldn't identify. He held within his cold, clammy hand a half-emptied bottle of liquor, taking it up to his mouth and downing the rest of its contents before setting his blood-shot, angry eyes on Roxas.

"You worthlessh piecsh of shit…" he slurred, staggering over towards the Nobody with bottle in hand. "You should've ne'er been born!"

Though confused, Roxas kept his defenses in top form and brought his clenched fists up to guard his face from potential assault. _"Disarm, stun, chokehold, strangle, run,"_ he thought to himself as the deranged man drew nearer.

"It'sh all _your_ fault, you loushy pathetic loosher!" The man tossed the bottle at Roxas, who dodged it effortlessly and used the man's recovery period to tackle him. Five fast punches landed square in the drunkard's jaw, but the man reached for another bottle from off the floor and cracked it against Roxas's skull before the Nobody could deal any more. He jumped back onto his feet with gritted teeth and prepared for another assault.

"You _dare_ fight back against your father? You need to be disciplined, you unwanted, worthless, pathetic, moronic, idiotic, stupid mistake!" Somehow sober enough to be coherent yet still drunk enough to be blinded by drunken fury at the same time, the man grabbed a loose leg from the sofa and slapped it repeatedly in his open palm with a menacing glint in his eye.

"_Eh? Father? Is he supposed to be a fallen priest or something…?" _Roxas wondered as he dodged the sofa leg by jumping over the drunkard. He then spun on his heel and kicked the guy with such tremendous force that he went crashing straight into the wall. But for some weird, unexplainable reason the drunkard—an average, mortal human being—got up from the rubble unscathed save for the small hint of blood trickling down his jaw. _"Humans aren't supposed to do that… He must be a Heartless!"_

"I never wanted you!" shouted the drunkard. "You little freak! It's all your fault she's gone!" The drunkard shouted seven more minutes worth of derogatory words and accusations at Roxas—quite possibly using up every negative word in the dictionary (even the ones he couldn't quite pronounce)—before he grabbed hold of another emptied liquor bottle from off the floor and charged at the terribly confused Nobody.

Again Roxas faced off with a liquor bottle and again he disposed of it with little effort and pinned the vicious drunkard to the floor. Another two punches landed squared in the guy's nose, and when he was stunned enough, Roxas pressed his knee down hard on the man's chest. All flow of oxygen ceased and the drunkard's lips opened and closed like a desperate, gasping fish. He wound his arms around Roxas's leg in futile attempt to get the boy off of him. But in the end, the man went purple and motionless.

After waiting another minute to ensure his foe wouldn't recover, Roxas slipped off the body and brushed himself clean. "You know," he said, dusting cigarette ash from his hair, "I'm a member of Organization XIII, I was chosen by the Keyblade to be its master, and I command a legion of Samurai Nobodies to do my every bidding." His eyes fell to give the man's average human body the once-over. "I have all this under my belt and the best that weird Heartless girl could throw at me was a rambling, intoxicated middle-aged man whose only weapon was an emptied liquor bottle?"

With a shake of his head, Roxas hightailed it out of the house and took to the streets. Outside, the sky was dark and dreary. All the trees were decaying, dark and dreary. The sidewalks were cracked, decaying, dark, and dreary. The houses were cracked, decaying, dark, dreary, and fit for anyone without hopes or dreams. Roxas would have most likely stopped to question his surroundings, or even spared a second or two to care for the poor wretches without any hopes or dreams. But a Nobody without a heart didn't really care about any of that and so he just continued speeding down the small hill until his electric cord came loose and his pants fell.

"_Darn it! Why the heck did that Heartless give me these rags?"_ he thought to himself as he pulled up his moth-eaten, hand-me-down pants and tied the electric cord around them in a tighter knot. _"I bet she did it to throw off my fighting stance. If my pants had fallen earlier, my reflexes would have suffered. I need to get rid of these…"_

No sooner did he think the thought than Axel came walking up the small hill carrying a basket of freshly dried and cleaned laundry. As he walked closer to Roxas, the sun came out and shined its brilliant light over everything. Incidentally, the sun had an actual face—a bright smile, happy eyes, and dimples! And everything Axel passed regained its color and sprouted happy dimples, including the now bright and cheery trees, sidewalk, and houses. The houses incidentally teemed with bright-eyed, cheery, happy-go-lucky, optimistic, perfect families who lived without a single care, worry, or hardship in the world.

Anyway, Axel came merrily up the hill whistling a little tune until he caught sight of Roxas and gasped. "Roxas! What happened to you?! There's a bruise on your forehead and is that…a potato sack???"

"_Look at that pink shirt and sincere concern,"_ Roxas thought, giving Axel the once-over. _"He's got to be another fake!"_

Axel tried reaching his hand out to cup Roxas's cheek, but the Nobody flinched away and growled. "Don't you touch me!"

"Whoa, easy, Roxas! I'm your friend—you know that." Roxas glared at Axel through narrowed eyes as the taller Nobody set his laundry basket down on the sidewalk (the very same sidewalk that offered him a chipper wink before being covered by the basket). "Let's get you out of those rags." He pulled up a detergent-scented shirt and pair of pants, holding them up for Roxas. "Here, put these on."

Sliding his feet apart in a defensive stance, Roxas gave his reply in the form of a vicious snarl.

"Roxas, come on! It's me—Axel. You know I won't hurt you," the man pleaded, giving the garments a shake. "Please take the clothes. I…I hate seeing you like this."

"I'm going to give you until the count of three to tell me the location of the crazy Heartless responsible for all this," Roxas said between gritted teeth.

Axel's eyes went wide. "Is…is that who did this to you, Roxas?"

"One."

"Your dad? Oh god…"

"Two."

"Roxas… I know what's going on and I think you really need to talk to someone about this."

"Three!" Bypassing all of pseudo-Axel's confusing banter, Roxas sprung out at the man only to trip and fall flat on his face at the last second. The electric cord loosened yet again, causing his pants to drop and tangle around his ankles.

"Roxas!" Not wasting a single moment, Axel collected the young Nobody in his loving arms and gave him a tight hug. "It's okay, Roxas. I'm going to protect you, got it memorized?" he cooed. "You can come live with me. My parents won't mind and I know they'll be just as eager as me to keep you safe—gurk!!" Sudden and sharp pain rippled through Axel's abdomen, but he refused to let go of Roxas. He continued to hold on to his friend for dear sweet life.

"Let me go!" growled Roxas, punching Axel again and again in the same spot.

"I'll…never…let…you…go…Roxas…" Axel grunted through gritted teeth. The pain was so immense that tears spilled from his eyes, but he still held fast.

Roxas squirmed, trying to wriggle his way free of pseudo-Axel's vice-like grip. But no matter how much he tried, no matter how many times he kicked, punched, or yelled, Axel refused to let go. In fact, the more Roxas seemed to resist, the tighter Axel seemed to hang on, as if his strength was driven by Roxas's pain and discomfort. "Get off me, Heartless!"

"I'm not…heartless like your….dad… I…Roxas…I…lo—"

"I said _let go!!_" Taking desperate measures, Roxas rammed his head into Axel's repeatedly until he saw stars. Yet even then he refused to let the Heartless win. Forcing all his might into his arms, he pried free of Axel's grip and sprung back to his feet. "I'm the Organization's #13. Commit _that_ to memory, Heartless!" he spat, taking the electric cord in his hand and tying it around Axel while he was still stunned.

After binding pseudo-Axel enough so he couldn't move, Roxas picked up his discarded moth-eaten slacks and put them back on before running down the still sunshine happy hill.

"_Where's the _real_ Axel? Where?!"_

Roxas wasn't even halfway passed the block he originated from when his pants fell again and he tripped. Though this time, he didn't hit the ground. Suspended in mid-air, his eyes darted in the direction of an all-too familiar squeal.

"Squee! I can see Roxas's underwear! I could just die!!"

"You! Get me down from here and fight fair!" Roxas shouted. "Hey! Are you listening to me? What are you—_hey!_"

The deranged girl had taken out her pretty pink cell phone and started taking pictures of Roxas's exposed behind, squealing with every new photo. Satisfied with 34MB worth of photos from every possible angle and them some, she put the phone away and snapped her fingers, silencing Roxas's background shouting.

"Tsk, tsk, my little bishi! You're not playing nice _at all._ You need lessons on how to be more social." Flicking Roxas's nose with giggling smile, she willed open a new portal and plunged the unmoving Nobody into its pink vacuum.


	4. Chapter 4

The rank stench of cheap fish sticks and ammonia tore Roxas away from the sweet dreams he was having of not being trapped in a living nightmare fabricated by a crazy Heartless so evil and vile that Maleficent herself would never be able to contain or control it. When his eyesight focused, Roxas found himself in a large, red and white themed school cafeteria draped with multiple banners of the school's sports team. Completely naive of the horrors that would befall him—nay anyone—who had the misfortune of waking up in _that_ particular school on _that_ particular day, Roxas took his sweet time scouting the area for potential Heartless ambushes rather than bolting from his seat and hightailing it out of there before the madness could ensue.

"Hey, Roxas! Whazzup!" said Hayner as he slid his tray onto the round table and flopped into the seat next to Roxas. Though before the Nobody could react, Pence and Olette joined the two with their own greetings. Now sandwiched between Hayner and Pence, Roxas found it hard to scoot his seat free from the table since the two neighboring seats now interlocked their metal legs with his, effectively trapping him in place.

"_Who are these people and how do they know my name? That Heartless must be behind this! They must be her henchmen."_

"Ooh, I just love pizza rolls!" Pence oozed before stuffing three of the undercooked, soggy rolls into his mouth.

"I'm glad they served sea-salt ice cream today," said Olette. "It's a real treat after having nothing but bran muffins and stale trail mix for the past two weeks."

Hayner bypassed his mystery meat and went straight for the ice cream. "You're tellin' me! It's the best thing on the menu."

Pence gasped, nearly choking on his pizza rolls. "Oh no you didn't! You didn't just diss my pizza rolls!"

"Whoa, cool it, man. I forgot about the rolls, bro."

Eyes as wide as pizza pies, Pence nearly had a nervous breakdown. "You…_forgot_…"

"Uh-oh…"

"The almighty…"

"No, wait! Pence, that's not—"

"The heavenly…"

"Now, now. We can talk this out!"

"The _Godly_…"

"No! It's not like that!"

"Hey, look, Pence!" Olette interjected in the nick of time. "The lunch ladies are giving out seconds!"

"What, where?" Pence squealed and darted out of his chair while Olette and Hayner wiped the sweat from their brows.

"Whoa, that was a close one. Thanks, Olette," Hayner said.

Olette giggled. "Just be careful next time."

Meanwhile, Roxas did nothing but tune the whole ordeal out in favor of planning his escape. While the Heartless were distracted by their petty dispute, Roxas managed to sneak a plastic knife and spoon into his clutch. He kept them concealed under the table until he could figure out a way to utilize them as effective weapons for his escape. So lost in thought was he that he failed to notice that Pence had moved until Hayner tapped him on the shoulders, jolting him from his thoughts and forcing him into a defensive posture.

"Whoa, take it easy! What has you in such a tight knot?" Hayner asked.

Roxas, however, did not reply. He instead continued to hold his knife and spoon to shield his face from attack.

"I know what's wrong," Olette said. "He's looking at table 13 again."

"_I'm doing what?"_

Hayner slapped his forehead. "Oh man! Duuude! You've gotta stop that, bro! That gang's waaay outta your league! We gotta stick to the status quo, you know? The basketball floozies are over there at table 13 while us science geeks group out over here at the unmarked reject table that the repo guys forgot." Hayner pushed his glasses up his nose both to emphasize his point and to indicate to Roxas, who had not been paying any attention thus far, that Hayner was in fact wearing glasses. And he had a pocket protector and held his pants up with rainbow suspenders. Roxas would likely find that really odd and out of character if he had perhaps met Hayner prior to this whole incident.

"Seriously, Roxas," Olette continued, also pushing up her OOC-trend glasses, "chances are if you ever go anywhere _near_ that table, you'd likely walk away with a wedgie so bad, we'd need to get the woodshop guys over at table 5 to help pry you free."

"And that would _also_ mess up the status quo! That's a big no-no, man."

Roxas didn't even bother to reply, focusing instead on recalibrating his escape strategy to factor in the new variables, or lack thereof. Now that the pudgy one had moved his chair, Roxas saw the opportunity to make a run for it. But no sooner did he motion to use his spoon as a diversionary tactic when the roly-poly kid came back with a tray full of more pizza rolls and plopped like a butterball back into his seat, once again restricting Roxas's movements.

Sitting at the famed table 13 dressed completely in their red and white basketball uniforms were the school's star athletes of the Destiny Twilight Hollow Radiant High School Nobodies, the most feared name in all of basketball history ever. They crushed every opponent, won every match, scored every record in the Guinness Book, and practically invented the sport. In fact, Vexen and Zexion would argue that it was through their ingenious collaboration that they _did_ in fact invent the sport.

All the members of the team sat around the table twirling basketballs with their feet kicked up on the table. They looked cool, rad, phat, and hip—something all the boys wanted to be and all the girls loved to swoon over. There they were, all covered in sweat with their muscles bulging and flexing, and their—somewhere very far yet very near, a high-pitched girly squeal echoed and perked Roxas's ears. He thought, for that split second, that the crazy Heartless girl was close by, and harked his ears to further listen for her mating call—an act he grew to regret. For just in that instance when he flexed his ears to maximum auditory efficiency, Coach Xemnas stormed into the cafeteria blowing his whistle at his team while simultaneously blowing out one of Roxas's eardrums.

"Have any of you seen Axel?" he demanded, to which everyone just shook their heads. "Dammit! Where is that boy? I'll give him fifty lashes for this." As soon as he had come, Xemnas had stomped off in search of his star player.

"Hey, speaking of Axel, did you hear the news about him?" Pence inquired. "I overheard some gossip on the lunch line."

"You mean gossip about the Mr. Flaming Hot and Popular captain of the team?" Hayner asked with a roll of his eyes. "This I gotta hear…"

"Yup. Apparently, he's trying out for the high school musical."

"No way!"

"They say he's been keeping his beautiful singing voice a secret."

"That's wicked crazy! …Well, actually, I guess _all_ high school kids have secrets." Hayner gave a dramatic pause before jumping out of his seat, tossing his glasses off to the side, and striking a pose. "In fact, I have a little one of my _own_."

Though he was a Nobody void of any heart, soul, and feelings, Roxas still retained a youthful sense of optimism given to him by his Other. He wanted to believe that good would always triumph over evil. He wanted to believe that by wielding the Keyblade for the Organization, he was in fact doing a good deed to help his fellow Nobodies attain the hearts they so desperately desired. He wanted to believe that every good act, no matter how small, would have a big impact on the general scheme of things within the universe. Roxas, in essence, was not a doom-and-gloom quitter who threw in the towel whenever things looked a little bleak.

Or rather, that's how he was _before_ his journey through the kooky girl's diabolical hell. The second pop music flooded into the cafeteria and all the kids and faculty broke out into stunningly choreographed song and dance, the small fragment of optimism Roxas had clutched onto ever since his birth was vaporized and the Nobody lost all hope for humanity. They popped and they bopped and they rocked to the beat all afternoon, singing their way through verse after merciless verse in order to ensure that the entire student body had at least one shot at a solo performance to tell their deepest, darkest secrets in the most melodious way possible.

Clawing his way past the groupie dancers and maneuvering his way around Demyx's sitar solo, Roxas slid his plastic spoon across the floor causing the team mascot to trip and tumble onto the backup dancers surrounding Riku. The dancers crashed into him as he rolled through with his skateboard and shot him in the opposite direction, propelling him headfirst into a large bowl of potato salad. Flinging his arms desperately to flick the gunk out of his conditioned hair, chunks of potato salad went flying into the eyes of a dozen dancers, blinding them and throwing them completely off balance until the whole dance floor turned into one giant dominos event where each dancer knocked down at least seven others.

Meanwhile, Roxas used the mass chaos to his advantage. Whipping out his plastic knife, he slid it between the cracks of the exit and unfastened the lock. He swung the doors to his freedom open and ran like he was being chased by Larxene on a bad day. All through the halls he could hear the echoes of the students clamoring to fall back in tune with the rhythm, while under his feet the pounding tunes continued to reverberate with enough intensity to make him walk with extra caution. Roxas ran all throughout the school looking for an exit off the premises, but when he found all the doors locked and his plastic knife utterly useless against the premium security designs, he knew but one option left to get the heck out of that demonic school: jumping off the roof.

Up the stairs he ran, going up flight after flight as though climbing the stairwell of a huge skyscraper rather than a high school. After 27 flights, Roxas barged through the door to the roof where his feet froze in place. His eyes darted to assess what appeared as a man-made jungle cluttering what should have been the very open and deserted roof. Instead, trees and plants of all shapes and sizes cluttered the place complete with chirping birds and buzzing insects.

"It's you."

"_That voice!"_

"So you found me," Axel said as he approached from behind the thick vegetation. "Hey, you know it's funny. The guys would never think to look here since it's the science club's spot, but you…" Axel sighed and leaned against a tree. "You're the science guy, right? Makes sense it'd be you."

"You want me to believe you're Axel?" Roxas said, cautioning his way around his target while ensuring he maintained a good distance between them.

"I know, I know," Axel sighed again.

Roxas narrowed his eyes. _"Know what? That I know that this is all a ploy?"_

"You couldn't believe it was me when you heard my singing voice and now I've gone and messed the whole thing up." Axel balled his hand into a tight fist. "Dammit, Roxas! I want to sing with you, I really do! But Demyx tricked me into telling everyone and now it's turned the whole school into a mess!"

"_So _he's_ the reason people are singing? This one's the most treacherous Heartless of them all! I have to be very careful or else he might trap me in an endless serenade. But then again…without the Keyblade, what chance do I have at defending myself?"_ It was then that Roxas wished he had a spare plastic spoon, or at least a plastic fork. The knife alone would never be enough to take down the fiendish Heartless. _"I hate to say it, but my best bet is to run and try to find that Heartless girl instead. Maybe if I beat her, this one will just disappear and the real Axel will come back! …Ugh, but then again, maybe it's hopeless. What good will it do me? No good can come from anything I do anymore. Good doesn't exist. We're all doomed anyway—me more than normal people since I don't have a heart. Why bother resisting anymore?"_

The tension in Roxas's taut muscles slackened as the warrior dropped his guard and prepared to surrender himself to an eternity of karaoke and live orchestral performances. "Do your worst," he muttered, not even bothering to look the Heartless fiend in the eyes.

With his cue signaled, pseudo star-athlete Axel jumped high up into a tree branch, gazed longingly down at Roxas, and began singing from the diaphragm. The buzzing and chirping of insects and birds melted into a soft, easy listening melody fit enough to play on prom night.

All the while, Roxas stood with shoulders hunched and spirit broken. Nothing could rekindle his spirit, and when Axel extended his hand out to Roxas during the chorus, Roxas sighed and lifted his own hand…_to stab pseudo Axel with the plastic knife_.

Axel's eyes went wide, his mind unable to process the presence of a plastic knife protruding from his open palm. "Roxas—what…?"

"You fool," Roxas seethed. "I am the Organization's #13. Don't _ever_ underestimate me!" Leaping into the air, the Key of Destiny spun around and landed a kick square into Axel's jaw. "The _real_ Axel trained me in combat, and you know what his rule #11 is?"

"Let loose…and have fun with it…?" pseudo Axel sputtered.

Roxas shook his head. "When you run into an atypical enemy that looks like trouble, play yourself to be the weakling and lull your foe into a false sense of security."

"Wha…?"

"And the most effective way to do that is to first make _yourself _believe you're the weakling. It wasn't easy, but I managed to fool you, phony."

"But I'm not—"

"No, you're _not_ Axel. I've already figured that out." Roxas punched the star athlete in the chest to topple him over and then grabbed the nearest potted plant, launched it in the air, and kicked like a soccer ball into pseudo Axel's head. The clanking noise that sounded when the ceramic came in contact with Axel's skull served as a musical cue to signal the backup dancers waiting eagerly for their debut behind the bushes. They sprung into action Rockettes style, kicking their legs high with the broadest, most pearly-white smiles they could muster across their moisturized faces as they made their way into the center of the scene. Roxas used the diversion to his advantage by bolting away from Axel the second the dancers kicked their way into their big number with each dancer breaking from the chain while twirling around a set of red and white parasols.

"Roxas, wait!" the pseudo Axel shouted, but it was too late. Roxas slid free from the barrage of spinning parasols, and with one grand leap, jumped clear off the edge of the roof.

Falling from 27 stories up, Roxas leaned forward to increase his velocity. He planned to do a mid-air flip just before touching ground to summersault to safety. But before he could so much as wiggle a finger, his body came to an abrupt halt in midair and he found himself staring face-to-face with his least favorite fangirl.

"You!"

"Tee-hee!"

Roxas tried to wriggle himself free to smack her one, but only his lips could move. "Let me go!"

"Aww, you're just so cute!" the crazed girl giggled as she pinched Roxas's cheek. "I should've seen that coming, you know, but I won't fall victim to it again. Axel really taught you everything, huh?"

"Yeah, especially how to use a finishing move that can dish out a one-hit KO. Let me go and I'll show it to you first-hand."

The girl laughed, ignoring the threat in favor of her own little fantasies of what Roxas _should have _said. "Squee! I just love how much you adore Axel! You wanna be just like him, don't you, Roxy-poo?"

Roxas raised a very confused eyebrow. "Come again…?"

"Let's see how you manage when I put you up to the test! Role-reversal, tee-hee!"

"What the—huh? No!"

With a snap of her pink nail polished fingers, the reality-impaired girl summoned another pink portal to sweep Roxas away.

* * *

"Good morning, Mr. Phelps."

The sudden voice jolted Axel awake, sending him lunging out of his chair in attempt to strangle the crazy Heartless chick that had sent him on a sadistic voyage through the Hell of all hells. But instead of his fingers meeting the squishy, greasy, and pimply neck of the teen, he crashed headfirst into the tiled floor of the empty room. With gritted teeth, he let out a bitter grunt as he realized that he was once again transported somewhere both irritating and troublesome.

Getting to his feet, he shot his gaze all around the room to gauge his situation and locate the source of the ominous voice. Attached to the arm of the chair where he previously sat was a small television monitor that continued to play the message recorded onto its system. Curious, Axel returned to his seat and peered into the monitor.

"International resistance fighters opposed to the Org. XIII Bill—which effectively brings about peace in all worn-torn nations, ends poverty, feeds the hungry, and provides high-performance technologies to all third world countries thus forming a global utopia—have threatened to launch missiles at our nation's parliament."

The tiny TV flickered through several pieces of footage illustrating the opposition to the bill and how they were mobilizing in some crazy jungle Axel had never seen before or visited. All the soldiers were armed to the teeth, some launching explosives while others flew around in helicopters.

"In order to emphasize their position on the matter, they have abducted Fuhrer King President Prime Minister Chancellor Chairman CEO Roxas Tsukiyohachihitachihibachi XIII Esq. Jr., the current head of government."

"_Wow, that guy said all that in one go? If it were me, I'd need an inhaler after that…"_

The video feed switched over to a recording of Roxas and his captors. Roxas sat tied to a chair with his clothes in rags and with several still-bleeding cuts and bruises blemishing his face. "Axel! Help me!" he pleaded with teary, black and blue disfigured eyes.

"Shut up, punk!" snapped one of the soldiers as he smacked Roxas on the back of the head with the butt of his assault rifle. "Listen up, you 'Free World' scum! We'll never give up the fight! War will continue! Bwahahaha!"

The picture then went blank and another montage of guerrilla warfare filled the screen.

"Your mission, should you choose to accept it," continued the ominous voice, "is to recover Fuhrer King President Prime Minister Chancellor Chairman CEO Roxas Tsukiyohachihitachihibachi XIII Esq. Jr. and destroy the Resistance's main facility of operations. As always, should you or any of your IM force be caught or killed, the Secretary will disavow any knowledge of your actions."

"_You've gotta be kidding me…"_

"This message will self-destruct in five seconds. Good luck, Axel."

"_Did he say _self-destruct_…?"_

_BOOM!_

The small TV monitor exploded, sending bits and pieces of its inner workings flying all across the room. Axel shielded his eyes just in the nick of time to deflect several wayward parts of metal.

"Pfft, they can do whatever they want with him. I'm out of here." Axel stuffed his hands in his pockets and walked away, not at all caring about President Lord and Master Tsumihibi-whatever. The guy in the video wasn't really Roxas, Axel knew. It was just some fabrication whipped up by the tiny tot with the pink pen that thought she could substitute her usual repertoire of Barbie and Ken dolls with living Nobodies. Well he'd show her! Sure, he didn't have feelings, but he could sure as hell _pretend_ to feel his wounded pride. He could pretend with the best of them and had seven annual Organization XIII's Best Pretender, Poser, and Paradox of the Year awards hanging on his Bedroom Wall of Naught to prove it!

And so, with more narrative insight into his mind than usual, Axel walked onto the crowded sidewalk in the busy metropolis. He traveled in a straight line without a single care as to how many people he bumped into while keeping his eyes plastered to the chewed gum-ridden concrete. Down the sidewalk he went, passing a wide assortment of street vendors that hawked their goods loud in an effort to overcome the city's deafening reverberations. Tall buildings towered over the mobs of people trekking throughout the streets. If he had taken the time to look up, Axel would have seen multiple LCD screens flashing with the latest advertisements for fashion, technology, and automobiles. Billboards littered whatever scenery remained between the cracks of skyscrapers, ensuring to sneak in any advertisement left untouched by the hawkers passing out fliers at the street corner.

Axel paid no attention to any of the senseless commercialism, choosing instead to focus on formulating a plan to find Roxas, ditch the crazy chick, and secure a way back to the _real_ world. Nothing else mattered except teaming up with his best bud in all the worlds to fricassee the whacko responsible for all the mayhem, and make her regret ever crossing the Flurry of Dancing Flames.

So absorbed in his own murderous thoughts was he, plotting the perfect plan to get back at that kooky girl, that it was not until the narration tapered away from its cocky cynicism and attained an austere air foreign to the tale's overall presentation thus far that Axel glanced up to realize he was traversing the road of an unfamiliar territory. At first, he believed the increasing audibility of the narration to be part of some elaborate advertising gimmick. Perhaps a talking billboard or a series of loudspeakers connected to a skyscraper boomed with marketing promotions for a new feature film or best-selling novel with a plot mirroring Axel's own plight? But no, as he continued to look in every which direction he saw neither billboards nor skyscrapers, but an endless and vast sea of white.

"_Where the heck am I now?" _Axel pondered as he took another few steps forward only to come to an abrupt stop at the announcement of his movements. _"What the heck? I bet that chick's trying to psyche me out because I skipped out on her idiotic plot."_

Scanning his newfound surroundings with care, Axel could make out the distinct shadow of a person far in the distance. He set off at once, dashing towards the only other life form within the entire void. The chance was slim, but perhaps he found someway to wander into the kooky girl's domain and now he had the perfect opportunity to launch a sneak attack. But as he drew nearer to his target, Axel made an unsettling discovery. Instead of greeting a little girl covered in too much pink, his fist met with a man dressed in tattered, faded rags.

Unfortunately, the exchange that took place between the two at that moment cannot be recounted. Suffice to say the man was in excruciating pain and Axel was just as dumbfounded as ever.

After the man recovered from the blow, he eased himself back into a sitting position and trained his weary eyes on Axel. "I understand your frustration," he said in a raspy voice, as though he had been speaking for far too long without a break or without any water.

"I'll ask you again in case you didn't hear me the first time," Axel sneered in a demanding voice. "Who the heck are you and where's that demonic teenager?"

"You are quite right; I did not hear you the first time," the man replied while patting the ground next to him. "Come, sit down and I will tell you everything you need to know."

Axel eyed the man cautiously before moving to take a seat. "Tell me who you are."

The man let out a dry chuckle. "I am a prisoner of this story much as you are, Axel."

"She tossed you into a pink vortex of doom, too?"

"If only it were that simple…" The man hung his head and shook it solemnly. "I am the Narrator. It is my job to actually tell the story as the author writes it."

"Narrator?" Axel scoffed. "You mean you're in cahoots with that pretty-pink pipsqueak?"

"Oh no," assured the Narrator. "I do not agree with her methods in the least. That is why I took such a great risk in bringing you here."

"Where is 'here' exactly?"

"We are presently in a tear within the time-space continuum as you know it."

"You don't say."

The Narrator nodded. "Yes, it is because of a tear such as this that the fangirl was able to pass into your world, and now she has developed a way to reverse engineer the process in order to create her own universes."

"You mean all the crock places she's sent me to."

"Yes."

Axel folded his arms. "Huh. So what, is she some type of witch?"

"Unfortunately, yes. She managed to hijack the powers from a mighty sorcerer. Perhaps you've heard of him: Yen Sid?"

"I remember Xemnas muttering something about him, yeah," Axel hummed. "So she stole his powers?"

"More precisely, she stole a bright, pink notebook with its matching feather pen (a gift from Master Eraqus) that contains all the powers of the cosmos."

Axel's eyes went wide. "I knew it! She's been using those things to mess with Roxas! Whatever she writes in that demon book becomes a reality in her twisted little fantasy worlds."

"That is correct," replied the Narrator. "However, the many forms of Roxas you have encountered throughout your journey are doppelgangers created by the fangirl."

"I figured as much. Roxas would never kick below the belt." Axel cringed while thinking back to the wedding fiasco. "Can you tell me where the _real_ Roxas is? Heck, better yet—can you take me to Roxas?"

"Unfortunately, my powers are too weak to summon a portal to his current location now that I have transported you here. However, I can assure you he has seen through the disguise of the Axel doppelgangers and is continuing to battle through them in hopes of reaching the fangirl."

"Tch, how are we supposed to take down that chick if she just snaps her fingers anytime we get too close to her? I doubt we can just keep fighting Axel and Roxas knockoffs until she runs out, because that loon doesn't strike me as the type to let her imagination run out of fuel."

The Narrator coughed and wheezed into his hand before replying. "Axel, you're an assassin, are you not?"

"Well, yeah. But don't go around telling people or else I'll have to kill you."

"Just lend me an ear, won't you? Assassins must plan their attack, correct? Or do you run blindly at your target and hope you can strike a killing blow?"

Axel let out a smirking laugh. "Are you kidding? Strategy's the way to go or else the catch'll get away. Sometimes, I have to lay out a plan that takes weeks—even months—to fully play out before I get the target right where I want 'em."

"So it is a battle of wits, is it?"

"Yup," Axel replied with a proud smile.

"And have you been using your wits here?"

Axel's smile fell. "Well, to a degree…"

"Listen to me." The Narrator leaned in closer towards Axel. "You will never be able to get your hands anywhere near that book so long as the fangirl can restrict your movements. The key here is to make the girl _want_ to relinquish hold of it."

"Are you _crazy?_" Axel shouted. He grabbed the Narrator by his tattered collar and looked him dead in the eye. "I will _never_ give that psychotic looney toon what she wants, and if you're suggesting that I do, then your allegiance is now crystal clear to me." Tightening his grip, Axel leaned in menacingly close to the man's face. "If I can't have the main course, an appetizer's plenty good enough for now, catch my drift?"

"No, no! You misunderstand," the Narrator rasped. "I never insinuated that you should give into her demands! All I am suggesting is that you formulate a plan to—"

"There you are!"

Both Axel and the Narrator turned their horror-filled eyes towards the fangirl.

"Naughty, naughty, Mr. Narrator!" the kooky girl scolded. "It's not nice to go around messing with other people's stories!"

"You're one to talk," Axel muttered.

"And _you_, Axel! You left poor little Roxy all alone to suffer at the hands of evil war peoples!"

"_Evil war peoples? Who taught this chick history?"_

The crazy girl sighed and pulled out her fluffy, pink pen. "Well, Mr. Narrator, it looks like its time for another visit from the Fanficzorz Fairy."

"The what?" Axel asked, looking over towards the Narrator for clarification. But the poor, honest, hardworking soul who never did harm unto another and didn't deserve such a cruel fate was too mortified and fraught with bone chilling fear to reply.

Waving her pen like a wand, she tapped it three times on the Narrator's head and something happened. Whatever happened can't be recounted.

Later, with a giggle and a smirk, the fangirl tossed the practically comatose Narrator to the side and sent him tumbling into a special, pink vortex to ensure Axel would never find him again.

"Silly, little man. Always going behind my back and making revisions to the beautiful stories I write," the girl said with a shake of her head. "Tee-hee! Intellectual narrators make for a baaaad fic!"

"Oh, and crazed, psychotic chicks with tacky wardrobe who acquire omnipotent powers from a magic book _don't_?" Axel scoffed.

"Squee! Axel's checking out me and my wardrobe! I could just die!"

Axel smacked his forehead. "She escaped from a mental ward, didn't she…? She's probably one of those mutants that were too unstable even for Professor X—and _that's_ saying something."

"Ooohhh! That's a _great_ idea!" the crazed girl shrieked, again reaching a note so impossibly high for any mere mortal to attain. "Can you say 'crossover fic'?"

"What in the he—"

Before Axel could express his total lack of understanding, he was already gone into the pink abyss.


	5. Chapter 5

Axel stared at the bald man sitting in a wheelchair after awakening only moments ago on the man's office couch. "Who did you say you were again?" he asked, not entirely certain if he wanted to know the answer.

"It is as I feared," the man replied with a solemn shake of his head. "I could not shield your memories after once again locking the spirit of the Phoenix Force deep within your mind."

"You did what where?"

"I am Professor Charles Xavier, and this is my school for gifted youngsters—that is, for mutants such as yourself."

"I went from being a Nobody to a mutant just by waking up here? How flattering." Axel sighed and decided to play along for the time being. "So what's this about a phoenix?"

"I shall explain that in good time. But first, can you remember your name?"

"You know, Xemnas asked me that _same_ question before giving me a new one. I'm refraining from answering in the off chance that I'll walk out of here as 'Lexa the Mutator of Flames'."

"This is far more severe than I could have imagined." Xavier locked his fingers together and leaned them against his chin, pausing with dramatic intensity. "Listen very carefully to me. Your name is Dr. Axel Grey and you have been a student of mine for a very long time."

Axel crossed his legs and pushed back into the couch. "Ya don't say," he replied with little interest. "So I'm a doctor now, huh? Does that mean I can use Cure or what?"

"Axel, listen to me. You may not remember, but I have fought a long and harsh battle against the Phoenix Force residing within your mind. It has taken all of my telepathic might to restrain and imprison the Phoenix so that you may once again live a normal life. However, as a result of the conflict, you have lost all of your telekinetic powers and memories."

Axel yawned and nestled deeper into the soft, leather couch. "Ya don't say."

"It will take some time, but I want you to know I will do my best to restore your mind to its original state prior to the Phoenix outbreak."

"Yeah, yeah. You go and do that," Axel said, dismissing Xavier with a wave of his hand. "While you're gone, you mind if I take a nap here? You'd think with all the times I've been knocked unconscious that I'd feel like the picture of health, but going nonstop trying to catch and cremate a demonic little girl who holds ultimate power over the universe really takes it out of a guy. Nobodies need rest, too, you know. We're not robots."

As he so boldly did all throughout their chat together, Professor X ignored all of Axel's references to his life outside the kooky girl's fantasy world and continued to carry on as though dear old Dr. Grey was delusional and disoriented and knew nothing of his _true_ origins. "May I make a suggestion?"

"Unless you're offering up a pillow stuffed with Donald Duck's feathers, I suggest you roll on out of here, Cue Ball, while your head's still on your shoulders and not on a billiards table."

"There is someone who has been very worried about you, Axel—someone very close to you. Seeing as how you retain no memories of me, I surmise you have forgotten him as well—one Mr. Roxas Summers."

"Oh for the love of…" Axel sprung up from the couch with a malicious growl. "Can't I go _one minute_ without hearing, seeing, meeting, or learning about that pink witch's hell spawn? She really likes to rush things, doesn't she?" Gritting his teeth, Axel spun around and punched the wall above the couch. The shockwaves shook the concrete and caused several picture frames to crash and break. "Seriously, lady," he shouted up at the ceiling, "ever hear of moderation and patience?"

"Axel, please," Xavier soothed while using his telekinetic powers to mend the broken frames and return them to their place on the wall. "Calm yourself. I understand your frustration—"

"That's what the Narrator said and now he's brain-dead!"

"Axel, if you continue on this tirade, I will be forced to restrain you."

"Tch, you're just another one of her puppets; not worth my time." Relaxing his muscles, Axel retracted his fist and let his arm fall to his side. He figured picking a fight with a powerful psychic in his current powerless state would accomplish nothing. "Be seeing you, Wheels." With a wave of his hand, Axel turned for the door and exited the office leaving Xavier to ponder his next move.

Placing a hand on either side of his head, Professor X touched his fingers to his temples and closed his eyes. "Logan, I need to speak with you," he said telepathically. Within moments, a burly man dressed in yellow and black spandex entered the office.

"Whaddya want?" he asked in a gruff tone. "I was busy in the Danger Room showing the kids how to _really_ take down a Sentinel."

"Logan, as you may be aware, I have recently restrained the Phoenix."

"So Axel's back?" Logan asked with a sly smirk. "Heh. Maybe he can give me a 'physical' later."

The professor ignored Logan's innuendo and continued along his train of thought. "I need you to keep an eye on him."

"Oh, I'll keep an eye on him, alright. I'd do it even if you didn't ask."

"Since I have contained the Phoenix, Axel has demonstrated signs of overly aggressive and unstable behavior."

Logan raised a suggestive eyebrow. "I'd _love_ to see that."

"Even if his powers are no more, I fear his aggression may cause trouble. While I focus my powers on retrieving Axel's memories, I need you to be my eyes and ensure he does not endanger the other students or himself."

"Don't you worry; I'll make sure to, eh-heh, _'restrain'_ him if—wait, he lost his memories?"

"Unfortunately, yes. I pray spending some time with Roxas will be able to rekindle his memories, but I am quite positive the only remedy is for me to reach back into his mind and liberate them from the Phoenix's prison."

A wild smile spread across Logan's face. "Oh-ho… _this_ should be fun."

Meanwhile, outside on the campus grounds of the Xavier Institute, Axel could seldom take five steps without receiving friendly, warm greetings from freaky people with freaky powers. "So let me get this straight," he said to one mutant. "You're actually a_ man _somewhere under all that blue fur?"

"It's quite the shame you've lost your memories, Axel. I am Dr. Henry 'Hank' McCoy and we are very good friends," the mutant replied. "I hope, as in the past, my outward appearance will not serve as a distraction. But yes, I am a man—a genetically mutated man."

"Ya don't say. Methinks that crazy chick should've paid better attention in biology class."

"I _do _say, sir. And though I'd very much like to sit here and chat in hopes of rekindling your memories, I have urgent duties to attend to in the Danger Room. Apparently, one of the Sentinels has gone rogue."

"Didja call me, sugar?" said a woman whose only other noticeable character trait aside from her southern accent was the stunning white streak running through her brown hair. She flew down from the sky and touched down next to Hank.

"Ah, Rogue. You're just in time. We have some trouble in the Danger Room. Would you care to assist me?"

"Sure, honey," she replied. "But we have to make this quick. Gambit's takin' me out for some homestyle gumbo in a few."

"No need to fret; I'm sure together we can resolve the matter in efficient time for your date."

The two continued to banter back and forth for several hours about that guy Gambit, what Rogue should wear on her date, and the secrets to a _good_ relationship. All the while, an army of short-circuiting Sentinels was mass murdering rookies in the background and Axel slipped away the first chance he got (a.k.a. the second Rogue arrived).

Now walking across the tennis courts, Axel again received a bombardment of "Welcome back, Dr. Grey!" and "Glad to see you're better, hot stuff!" greetings from the various students. All types of mutants stopped their activities to say hello to or swoon over Axel—a man covered in ice, a seven-foot tall metal man, a girl who walked through walls, a woman so blue in hue she looked like she belonged with a pack of villains instead of wandering about the X-Men HQ, and many others.

Yes, it was quite the interesting experience for Axel, and that's why he ran as fast as he could in search of sanctuary. But as he veered off in the direction of a nice, quiet, secluded spot under a shady tree where he hoped to catch some shuteye, a strange masked man in a red and black costume came running towards him waving his arm frantically in the air. The man was armed to the teeth with two katana blades strapped to his back, two handguns holstered at his sides, a sash of grenades draped along his chest, and a belt with various pouches wrapped around his waist, and looked like the exact kind of trouble Axel didn't need.

"Yo!" the human arsenal shouted. "Genie-Jean! Can you spare me an invisible, psychic hand?"

Axel raised an eyebrow, wondering if the deranged man was referring to him. "Huh?"

The masked man slid to a stop in front of Axel and stood with a noticeable hunch. "I've got a super-atomic wedgie like you wouldn't _believe_!" he cried while pointing at his aching rear. "Before you ask, _yes_, it was self-induced, which is why it's _really_ jammed in there. When I read about the potential wedgies in the last chapter that never happened, I just _had_ to go and do one even if it was off camera. 'Cept, well, I was the only one around, and my wedgie-urge was so bad that I couldn't help myself!"

"_What the heck is he talking about?"_

"So c'mon, put those uncontrollable, life-destroying powers to good use and pry my grundies outta my crack." The man turned around and grabbed his butt cheeks, thrusting his rear in Axel's face. "If you don't I'll have to tear my butt a new one, which means I'll lose the chimichanga I ate for lunch—and you know how much I love chimichangas!"

"What in the?" Axel recoiled and took a repulsed step back. "What's _wrong_ with you?"

But the man didn't answer. Instead, he started banging on his butt cheeks as though they were bongos and sang in rhythmic harmony with the beat. "Chimichanga! Chimichanga! Chimichanga! Chimichanga! Chimichanga! Chimichanga!"

"_Oh, great; another escapee from the local mental asylum."_

"So whaddya say? Will ya help an annoyingly persistent fella out, Doc?"

When Axel didn't reply, the man arched himself back upright and turned to face him. He gave Axel the once-over, inspecting him as though he were the strangest thing in the world. "Hey, have you lost weight, Jean?" he asked, bringing his hand up to cup his chin. "Where'd all your curves go? You look a little less feminine to me." He then gasped at a sudden realization. "Oh no! Little Jeanie-jam's anorexic! Quick, eat my half-digested chimichanga!" The man yanked out a katana and held it horizontally to his gut, preparing to slice himself open and retrieve what little remained of his lunch.

"Would you shut up, you loon?" Axel shouted. "You've got the wrong guy! I'm _Axel_."

A visible crease formed behind the man's mask, illustrating his raised eyebrow. "Wheel-and-axle grease? What'choo talkin' 'bout? The script says you're supposed to be Jingle-bellin' Jean Grey, a.k.a. the Phoenix chick who gets to have her own ingrown pyrotechnics factory while 'ol 'Pool gets nothing but a couple tons of cheap plastic explosives! Jerk artists; I'll get them for this. Mark my words!"

"Just who the hell are you?"

The man let out another dramatic gasp. "Why I never! You don't know _me_—the greatest Marvel character to ever grace the totally unworthy comic pages found at your local comic book shop?"

"No."

"Oh." A visible smile creased behind the man's red mask as he sheathed his katana. "I'm Deadpool."

"Really."

"Yup. I'm the original _Merc with a Mouth_," Deadpool declared with a proud fist-pound against his chest. "No autographs, please. …Well, maybe just one. But only if you ask reeaaalll nice and let me shoot ya a couple of times. I've got a real itchy trigger finger today. Seriously, I've tried _everything_ to relieve it—even chopping it off and regenerating a new one! But no luck; it's still itchy."

"Oh, you've got a _mouth_ all right…" Axel muttered while Deadpool went on a tangent about fun things to do when waiting for a new appendage to grow.

After several minutes of shooting his mouth off, Deadpool finally fell silent in favor of circling around Axel and giving him another once-over with a more critical eye. "So did they get you to play the new Jean or what? I'll miss Famke Janssen, but I'm sure after a couple of rehearsal sessions with yours truly, we can get you all nice 'n snug in those petite stilettos of hers."

Axel crossed his arms and groaned. "For the last time, I'm_ Axel_—that's A-X-E-L. Got it memorized? I don't know who this 'Jean' is and I really don't care. Now unless you can point me in the direction of your kooky master with the pink notebook and matching pen, we're done here."

"Aww, don't be like that, New Jean!" Deadpool exclaimed as he slapped his arm around Axel's shoulders. "With you here, just think of all the fun things I can do now that party-pooper Old Jean's not around—like wear her old uniform! …Again!"

"Hey, back off, pal!" Axel said as he shoved free and dusted himself clean of gunpowder residue. "You know, I'm really getting tired of dealing with you crazy chick-flunkies." He grit his teeth, balling his hands into tight fists and readied himself to strike. The plan was simple: he would use his agility to outmaneuver Deadpool and force him into lowering his rear guard. Then, once he saw his opportunity, Axel would snatch a katana and use it to decapitate Deadpool and any other idiot mutant that got in his way.

But the whole plan collapsed into a useless heap of nothing and blew up in smokes.

"Oh, oh! D'you know what's _really _crazy?" Deadpool asked while jumping giddily from foot to foot. "With the new KFC Double Down, you can have a bacon and cheese sandwich _without a_ _bun_! I'll go get some for our house party at your place later tonight!" With his announcement made, he hightailed it out of view—most likely in the direction of anything _but_ the nearest KFC.

"Didn't see that coming. That guy has more screws loose than a used gummi ship," Axel mused, relaxing his posture. "But there's something else—he's not like the other freaks that whacko girl's conjured up. What's her angle this time, I wonder?"

With blabbermouth Deadpool out of the picture and nigh a single soul in sight, Axel resolved to take a much-needed nap under the shady tree. His nerves were shot and his ill-faring spirits added extra weight onto his already overburdened shoulders. Plopping down on the grass, he relaxed his back against the tree trunk and closed his eyes. Not even five seconds into his nap, Axel found his eyes forced open out of reflex after a loud shout pried him from his sleep. "You again?" he growled, shooting Deadpool the evil eye.

"Hiya!" the merc greeted with a merry wave of his hand.

"What is it _now_?"

"Just thought you'd like to know I put the muffins in the oven. I spilled some batter, but I cleaned it up with C4, so no big. Plastic explosives make _everything_ better!"

Axel eyed Deadpool for a long while, noticing the wide smile stretching across the psychopath's face behind his blood-red mask. "Is that code for something?"

"You don't like cranberry muffins, Axel? They're made with _real_ cranberry substitute and extra high fructose corn syrup!"

"Well, at least your sanity's a step up from calling me 'New Jean'…" he grumbled as he leaned back into the tree.

"Are you kidding? You're _nothing_ like Jean Grey!" Deadpool said as he plopped down and took a seat next to Axel. "Any moron could tell you're not her, even if your phoenix-red hair screams 'I'm possessed by an evil fire bird out to incinerate your soul'. No sexy curves = not Jean."

Axel scoffed. "So you're admitting that you're a moron?"

"Nah! I was just messin' with ya earlier. It's called _male bonding_, and I'm not talking about the stuff I use for my jock itch."

"Why, hoping to spin my head around enough to concede to your master's cockamamie fantasy?"

Deadpool shrugged. "I was bored. Miss Prissy-pants Fangirl originally scripted me to be one of those nameless, flat, average, and overall out-of-character cardboard-cutout/cookie-cutter losers that waved to you during that tennis court montage. But I didn't wanna do that so I came to this tree and ambushed Roxas, knocking him out cold with a few bullets to the limbs and stuffing him inside a chest that I chained shut and sunk to the bottom of that lake over there." Deadpool pointed at the nearby lake, which looked so peaceful and tranquil that nobody would ever suspect that a body had been packed into a chest and dumped in there.

Axel's eyes went wide. "You did _what_?"

"Oh! You want details?" Deadpool asked like an eager puppy. He whipped out an assault rifle and a handgun, laying them on the grass and pointing to each with pride. "First I ran up behind the unsuspecting schmuck and hit 'im on the back of the head with my M16, kinda like how Tsukiyohachihitachihibachi was hit in the last chapter. That knocked him out, but I couldn't be _too_ sure so I shot a few bullets from my Beretta 92 into each of his arms and legs. Then, just to make sure he was really, _really_ unconscious, I popped a couple more caps where the sun don't shine."

"You did _what_?" Axel repeated, his brows furrowed and his mouth gaping.

"Ooh, I'm starting to_ like _you!" Deadpool said, his smile broadening. "When I was _absolutely sure_ Roxas the Cyclops-wannabe was out for the count, I rolled him up like a pig in a blanket and stuffed his squishy body into the treasure chest I just so happened to have buried under this tree during my spare time. When he was all snug like a bleeding bug in a rug, I reattached the chains, rowed out to the middle of the lake, and dumped me treasure down to Davy Jones' locker, arr!"

"_What_…?"

"OH! And if you're one of those activists against prisoner cruelty, don't worry." Deadpool gave an extra big smile for this one. "I didn't forget to stab him some air holes."

The whole insane explanation left Axel speechless. Maybe his weariness had bested him, or perhaps Deadpool's homicidal mania was too much for him to comprehend. Whatever the case, Axel continued to stare at the nutty merc without any insight to as how to respond. At times like those, he wished more than ever that he had a real heart to feel real feelings instead of processing the correct response through his mind before mimicking it.

Of course, the silence gave Deadpool the opportunity to keep blabbing. "You know, I've always wondered what a fanfiction zombie would be like. I mean, the whole site's clogged with vampires and all, but what about _zombies_? Where's the love man? Where's the _love_! Can't zombies find romance on their quest for feeding on human brains, too? Or is this outlet for abusive romance only an exclusive club for bloodsuckers? Pfft!"

"You _killed_ the Roxas fake?" Axel finally sputtered.

Deadpool just shrugged. "More or less. Technically, I just pumped him full of lead and let the lake work its magic."

"You're not just pulling my leg, are you?" Axel pressed. A fangirl-flunky _killing_ the fangirl's ultimate tool to realize her fantasies? That didn't make the _least_ bit of sense!

"You callin' me a liar, hedgehog-head?"

"Maybe I am."

"Hey, do you _see_ Roxas anywhere?"

"No."

"Don't you think this far into the plot he'd make an appearance? Or haven't you noticed that Little Miss I-Don't-Know-What-_REAL-_Love-Is wants to get you and the pseudo in bed faster than it takes a fat man on a moped to have his picture taken for _The Guinness Book of World Records_?"

"Listen here: I never let my guard down, pal. You can shoot your mouth off all you like, but it'll take more than a boatload of mindless babble to pull the wool over _my_ eyes."

Deadpool shot up to his feet and slid into a defensive stance. "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah!" said Axel as he rose to meet Deadpool.

"Well, yo mamma's so fat, she's got her own area code!"

"Yeah, keep spouting meaningless drivel, chatterbox! I've got _all_ day."

The two glared at each other for several long minutes until Deadpool clutched his stomach and let out a jolly laugh. "I'm tempted to shoot ya, but if I do, this story'll end in a time paradox and Roy Campbell will come out and stab me with 61 pairs of scissors. But no, seriously, he's dead. At least for now."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Fangirlerella hasn't noticed her make-believe prince is missing yet since that whole Sentinel subplot's still going on ignored in the background. She probably thinks that all the valor and righteousness she scripted into the sap's character led him to single-handedly take down the whole army."

"Wouldn't she find out by listening to your graphic details on how you murdered the guy?"

"Let's face it, spud-bud; you haven't exactly been her ideal source of the explicit literotica she craves, so her sights are set scanning for her own pre-paid hooker studmuffin amongst the battlefield of bloodied corpses left in the Sentinels' wake in hopes she can get a clear view of some sweat-glistening man muscles bulging out of a ragtag uniform. She's been so busy keepin' a lookout for rent-a-man Rambo that her eyes are anywhere _but_ on an extra that's _supposedly_ already had his five seconds of fame in this fic."

"That would make sense—provided everything you've said thus far is true."

"Hey, does the name _Gary Stu_ mean anything to you?" the merc asked without prompt.

"Should it?"

Deadpool scratched his head. "That name just popped into my head and there's a big warning tag glued to it—kinda like the ones you see on public toilets that mention how it's not safe to drink recycled flush water." Cupping his chin, Deadpool thought long and hard over the name. Seconds later, he snapped his fingers in triumph. "Oh! Now I remember! Gary Stus aren't just ridiculously powerful, good looking, and overly righteous—they're also immortal. Think Superman, only less likely to go Dark Side (not to say they _won't_; just a smaller chance of it happening compared to that goody-two-faced Krypto-jerk)."

"And that means what to me?"

"The Roxas in this segment is a Gary Stu, which means if we can get a hold of his Driver's License, we can file a lawsuit for fraud and maybe get ownership of all those hot sports cars he owns! _Vroom, vroom_! …Or we could just steal them. Yeah, let's just steal them and forget haggling with the fat monkey judge in the middle."

"You mean the fake's _not_ dead?"

"Dunno," Deadpool shrugged. "But he's sure to be double the trouble, double the fun, and double the mint gum since he's a mutant at all." He let out a boisterous laugh. "Whew, really makes you regret knowing Professor Xavier, huh, Axel?"

Axel raised a curious eyebrow. "The old fogey in the wheelchair?"

"Whoa, I know that tone! You mean you've never heard of him before?"

"Of course not," Axel replied while crossing his arms. "Where'd you get the ridiculous idea that I did?"

"Same place as the other avid readers of this fic." Reaching behind his back, Deadpool yanked out a laptop computer. After flipping it open, he donned a pair of reading glasses and pressed a few keys. "In Chapter 4 you said, and I quote, 'She escaped from a mental ward, didn't she…? She's probably one of those mutants that were too unstable even for Professor X—and _that's_ saying something.'" Once he finished, Deadpool put the computer and glasses away and looked at Axel. "Well? Explain_ that_, Mr. Oblivious-to-the-Gaping-Plot-Hole!"

"I have no idea how you knew I said any of that, but I was referring to _Professor Xehanort _while he was still an assistant working in Ansem's lab. In those days, armies of Heartless mutants ran amuck in that place before Xehanort could perfect the Artificial Heartless Dispenser—or so the boss says."

"Well how'd ya like 'dem pineapples?" the merc said while chucking a grenade for no immediately apparent reason into the lake. "The fangirl's just been mildly punk'd! Ooh! Maybe Ashton's around. He owes me dinner and a _good_ movie!" With that, Deadpool ran off again while his grenade exploded and caused an impromptu rain shower complete with wooden splinters and chain fragments.

"What is _up_ with that guy? That pretty-pink-princess reject will have to try harder if she wants to lower my defenses." Axel turned around to leave, setting his sights on tracking down that obnoxious girl in pink now that the pseudo Roxas no longer posed a threat. Yet, without taking a single step away from the tree, and extremely loud and rampant voice shouted in his ears with enough volume to blow out his eardrums.

"I'm baaaaack!" Deadpool sang right into Axel's ears, sending the unsuspecting Nobody flying.

"How the _hell_ did you get right in back of me?" Axel exclaimed after crashing back to the ground. "You even left in the _opposite _direction!"

Deadpool shrugged and then smiled all innocent-like. "I'm special that way."

"I don't care what you are. Just get lost already! I've got a date with a crazy chick, and it involves fire. Lots of it."

"You know, considering your predicament, I wouldn't be using words like 'date'."

"Hey, I can't stop being me just because some crazy girl's turned the world upside down. The second I'm not me using my words and actions, I'll be one of those clones."

"Point taken. Just…for the sake of your future (and potentially mine), try to _not_ give the evil girl with the omnipotent powers any new ideas. You'll regret it."

"Yeah, fine. Now will you leave?"

"Nope!"

Axel sighed. "Is it just me, or does this seem like its running on and on with no end in sight?"

"That's your Fourth Wall Sense tingling."

"My what?"

"Let 'ol Professor 'Pool cram the ultimate knowledge 'bout the Fourth Wall 'tween the creases of that grayish goo floatin' 'round in yer head." Deadpool reached into one of his utility belt pouches and pulled out a pair of spectacles. After duct taping them to his mask, he wandered in front of a conveniently placed green chalkboard and picked up a wooden pointer. "As you can _clearly see_," he said while smacking the pointer against the scribbles all over the chalkboard, "the Fourth Wall is an _invisible_ _wall_ between us and the audience."

"You mean those mutant onlookers over there who are gawking at you?" He turned to point at the large crowd of teenage mutants (some ninjas, others turtles, and still others somewhere in between) who crowded around the park area to watch all of Deadpool's crazy antics unfold first-hand.

Deadpool shook his head, loosening one of the strips of duct tape in the process. The glasses slipped halfway off his face. "No, I'm talkin' about the kids squinting at these lines of text from behind their computer screens. Bunch of squints."

Axel grit his teeth. "So that girl's got a posse, eh? And they're reading every word she writes down, are they? I hope they know that once I've tossed their leader on the grill, they'll be joining her as a flaming side dish."

"Wrong groupies, amigo. I'm talking about _your_ fans, not hers." The other strip of tape unstuck from his mask, and the glasses fell to the ground where a squirrel grabbed them and scurried off to bury it with its cache of nuts. "The fangirl's trained them to expect relatively short chapters split between you and Roxas ranging anywhere from 4000-5000 words in total. Your good 'ol Fourth Wall Sense just picked up on the well-thought-out complexity of this chapter's Axel segment."

"Is this another one of your brain-diseased delusions?"

"Nah. Though I've got one saved for after the lecture." Deadpool stepped away from the chalkboard and tossed his wooden pointer to the side, which was also incidentally carried away by an army of squirrels. "It's easy to break the Fourth Wall when you know how. Let me demonstrate." He looked at the camera with a broad smile and waved. "Hiya, kids! Are you getting tired of reading my wild dialogue? I bet you want to just scroll past all this stuff until you catch the name 'Roxas' and stop there. Well, if that's the case, 'ol 'Pool's got a few words for ya!"

Deadpool cleared his throat and inhaled a deep breath.

"Roxas!

"Roxas?

"Roxas…

"Roxas!

"Look out, Roxas!

"Oh no! _ROXAS!_

"Roxas is _**dead!**_

"I can't believe she killed Roxas!

"I can't believe it's not butter!

"I can't believe it's _Roxas butter_! He's been run over by a steamroller! AHHH!

"But you have to admit he's good on toast.

"AHHHHH!

Deadpool stopped his dramatics and smiled.

"Bet I got your attention with that, huh? I can guess you're tired of reading about some crossover character that you'll probably never see again instead of reading about the guys you're _really_ here to read up on. Hell, you're probably wondering why this Axel segment is going on and on and on when all that's happening is Deadpool's crazy shenanigans are driving Axel further off the Edge of Ridiculopothy™. Well, lucky for you, I've got an answer: it's called _the_ _plot_. Now, maybe you're unfamiliar with the term, so lets practice saying it. _Pl-ot._ _Plllooooottttt… P-L-O-T. Plot_. There, now that I've finished patronizing you with that practice session, I find you worthy enough to learn the _ultimate_ secret."

"That you forgot to take your meds?" Axel scoffed.

"Shh! I'm talking to the audience!"

Axel rolled his eyes. "And do they ever talk back?"

"Yeah, but I let the suits at Marvel Comics deal with them."

"Ya don't say."

"Anyway, plot—it's what you do. It's what you live. It's what you believe in and sacrifice a small goat to every second Sunday of each month. Point is, it's layered and likes to dance with Chubby Checker. So come on, baby! Let's do_ The_ _Twist_!" Deadpool broke into dance, recycling the dance moves from the previous chapter, including the use of color-coordinated parasols.

_Beep! Beep!_

"Hey, what's that beeping noise?"

"Ah, excellent observation, Watson!" Deadpool chucked the parasols to the side and pointed at his flashing, beeping belt buckle. "_This_ would be my own personal _Plot Device_, and that beeping means my muffins are ready!" He ran.

"You know, I can't help but think that under that mask _he's_ the Roxas of this world…"

No sooner did Axel open his mouth when Roxas, drenched from head-to-toe in lake water and covered in algae, came running. "Axel! It's you!" he screamed at the top of his lungs, pausing for a minute to clap a small fish out of his waterlogged ear. "Are you alright? I was waiting for you by our favorite spot here under this tree when I suddenly blinked and found myself gagged and bound in an old sea chest. Then some sort of explosion went off and sent me flying to China. I teleported back here with my newly acquired teleportation powers as soon as I rescued a bus full of orphans that ran off a mountain cliff. How are you, darling?"

Axel resisted the urge to vomit and spew all the fine French cuisine he had acquired two chapters back all over the deluded clone. Although, in retrospect, that may have been the perfect plan of attack. Catch him off guard and whatnot.

Anyway, with Deadpool now taking over as narrator momentarily (hi, kids!), we've finally got some personali-_tay_ back into this cut and dry stuff. Heh, muffins. Gets 'em every time! Seriously, you won't even notice that the brain-dead guy's not narrating. Really! Take my word for it. You can't tell now, can you? Didn't _think_ so.

Right, so, where was I? Oh yeah: spewing up food. Mm… second-hand meal…

But yeah, no, wait…yes! No…YES! …No… Beef jerky! Whoo!

Wait…that's not French! …Is it? Can never tell with those snooty bastards. Anyway, Axel. Yeah.

Instead of hacking up some hand-me-down snails and using them as an effective diversionary tactic to befuddle and ultimately blow the mind of his Gary Stu foe, Axel settled on a good old-fashioned fisticuff brawl! Well, you know, since he couldn't use his handy, dandy notebook burnin' fire skillz. Hey, cut the guy some slack. He's a single, working Nobody with three million Dusk mouths to feed! _You_ try coughing up the hearts necessary to keep those kids' silver jumpsuits all nice and shiny while trying to maintain your perception of reality at the same time! It ain't easy, sweetheart. Trust me; I speak from experience.

So they fought and they fought, and they fought some more. And yadda, yadda. Okay, so I'm lying. Axel was doing all the fighting while pretty boy Back Street Boys reject Roxas "I-Ate-Scott's-Soul" Summers played the defensive. Why was he being such a spoilsport? Get ready for this, ladies, cuz it's gonna break your hearts into enough shards to fuel a small battalion of Heartless! Poor guy didn't want to accidentally hurt his amnesiac beloved. See, from the eyes of Gary Roxstu, Axel's just suffering from one too many whacks to the head and now he's all disoriented. All he needs is some genuine lovin' by his fiancé, and everything'll be just peachy. Make love, not war. Hug and kiss the guy instead of laser-beaming him to death. Etcetera, etcetera.

Aww…how sweet. Now pardon me while I steal Axel's cue and throw up the platter of chimichangas I just ingested for this very occasion. _BLERGCKHHhhh…hack…cough…GhlARghhh…. _Ahem. I never did have a sweet tooth.

_Beep, beep!_

Uh-oh, my Plot Device is beeping! Gotta run, see ya! Have fun with the brain-dead guy. Eww… he drooled on me.

"Axel, please listen to me!" Roxas pleaded while dodging another kick. "You've simply lost your memories. They'll come back soon, I promise!"

Axel grit his teeth and sent out another barrage of punches. "Shut up, you fake!"

"Even if it means finding Namine, the fabled White Witch of Wichita to help piece together the chains of memories around your heart—I'll do it!"

"Enough with the 'lost memories'! Who am I—Sora? Hell, he's already _past all that_ and Namine's MIA! But you wouldn't care about that, would you? Oh no! _Reality_ means nothing to a dumb sack of worms like you. You may as well be Oogie Boogie, but then again, even _he_ has more class since he's a literal _sack_."

But of course, Axel's entire monologue fell on deaf ears. He may as well have kept his mouth shut since not a single word registered with his target.

"I'll do anything for you, Axel…because… I lo—"

Finally, a punch managed to connect on Roxas's flawless, handsome, well-moisturized face. But it wasn't Axel's fist that pulled it off.

"Attacking a harmless, unsuspecting, sexy man who might be interested in going to the county fair with me later this evening? Not on my watch, bub!" Logan sent another punch packing straight into Roxas's gut, and one more to his head for good measure.

"Wolverine! What are you doing?" Roxas exclaimed. He wiped off the blood from his face, which then magically healed since he somehow acquired mutant healing powers of his own.

"Protectin' Axel—what's it look like?" He summoned his adamantium claws and slid into an offensive stance. "I won't let ya smack him around anymore, Roxas."

"Oh I see…" Roxas said, fingering his visor. "You think now that Axel has amnesia, you can falsify his memories into believing that he's _your_ fiancé. This is nonsense, Wolverine! Come to your senses and realize that I'm the only man for Axel!"

"Come to yours and realize you'll be nothing but sliced bread within the next five seconds!" Logan roared and leaped at Roxas. The two engaged in a heated battle fueled by their love of Axel. Meanwhile, Axel stood on the sidelines trying real hard to get _The Twist_ out of his head.

"You know, I have a book out called 'Deadpool vs. the Marvel Universe'. Maybe we should swap my name for yours considering the circumstances. Seriously, I'm just waiting for Cap, Spidey, and the Hulk to jump into the brawl."

"_You_ again?" Axel wandered over to where Deadpool was sitting on a bench munching on some popcorn. "What, no muffins?"

"Muffins are sweet. Popcorn is salty. Salty's better." Deadpool held up his tub for Axel to take a fistful.

Axel shrugged and joined in on the fun, free munchies.

"So how does it feel having two good lookin' beefcakes duking it out with you as the prize?" Deadpool asked between chews.

"Let me put it this way: if I had a heart and could feel, I'd be sick to my stomach right about now. Might even commit ritual suicide just to save my guts the trouble."

"Oooh! I could've helped with that!" Deadpool tossed the tub of popcorn over his shoulder and whipped out a couple of sharpened daggers. "Take your pick: _Mr. Stabbity-Stab_ or _Mr. Stabmaster 3000_."

"No heart," Axel reminded him.

Deadpool frowned.

"Axel…!"

"Not again…"

Walking victorious from the battlefield, Roxas approached the bench sweat soaked and bloody, but even more handsome. "Don't worry, Axel," he said, tearing off his tattered uniform and showing off his six-pack abs. "Wolverine won't be bothering you anymore."

"Hey, Deadpool."

"Whazzup, Ax-man?"

"Don't suppose you have any chakrams on ya?"

"I thought you'd _never_ ask!" Sheathing his daggers, Deadpool reached behind his back and pulled out a pair of deadly, poison-tipped chakrams with added flamethrowers, stun guns, and elbow macaroni that spelled the word _Deedpoo_. "I glued those on myself!" he boasted, handing the weapons over to Axel. "You're lucky I've just returned from India assassinating some swami guy and managed to pick these babies up at the black market."

"Bet you never saw _this_ coming, eh, girlie!" Axel hollered as he charged at Roxas with his chakrams at the ready. Back in his element with all the proper tools necessary, Axel made quick work of the pseudo Roxas. Utilizing all the flashy attachments, he stabbed, poisoned, burned, and electrocuted the doppelganger. As an added bonus, the fake Roxas seemed to have an allergic reaction to the genetically modified elbow macaroni and swelled up like a balloon.

"Wow! That was _spectacul-awesome_!" Deadpool clapped a hand on Axel's shoulder with a gleeful smile. "Ever think of joining the merc biz? We'd make a pretty cool duo. You could be the Betty White to my Bea Arthur! Whaddya say?"

Axel twirled his chakrams. "Sounds tempting, but between all the clone killing and crazy girl manhunts, I've got too much of a busy schedule."

"Aww… That's what they _all_ say!" Deadpool whined. "So that means you're leaving me?"

"Looks like it, yeah."

Behind his mask, Deadpool gave Axel a sad, puppy dog face. "But…you'll never forget me, will you?"

"Not even if I tried."

"You're just saying that!" the merc protested like a three-year-old. "You _will_ forget me!"

"Not in this lifetime."

"Liar! You don't have a life. You're a Nobody."

"Thanks for reminding me."

"Tell you what—I'm gonna give you this just to make _sure_ you'll never ever, _ever_ forget your ol' pal Deadpool." Before Axel could reply, Deadpool had removed his belt and dangled it in front of the Nobody. "Take my Plot Device."

"You want me…to have your belt?"

"No, I want you to have my _Plot Device_," Deadpool corrected with a roll of his eyes. "Go on—take it."

"You do realize…the second I get sucked into one of those pink whirlpools that I'll lose everything on my person, don't you?"

"Not this you won't. It's fangirl and dishwasher safe!"

"I find that hard to believe."

"Oh just take it already!" Deadpool crouched down and buckled his belt around Axel's waist before the Nobody could further protest. "There—both trendy and modern. I'm a regular Calvin Kline!"

"Whatever makes you happ—"

"Just what's going on here?"

"That voice!" Axel swerved around and caught sight of the crazy fangirl who had materialized just next to pseudo Roxas' unconscious body. "You're in for it now, sister!" He twirled his chakrams and prepared to spring at her. But with a snap of the kooky girl's fingers, Axel froze in place like a statue.

"What is that _filthy_ buckle around your sexy, well-toned waist?" Another snap and sparks flew out of the Plot Device. "Tee-hee! Can't have cutsy-woosty Axey-waxy running around with _that_, now can I?"

"Holy _Sniz & Fondue_!" Deadpool exclaimed. "She smashed my Plot Device!" He made a run for it and jumped into the nearby lake where he never resurfaced.

"So you didn't like playing with all your crossover friends?" she said as she made her approach towards the helpless and defenseless Nobody. "You're making this really difficult, but I'm not ready to give up! The power of love conquers _all!_"

A pink portal tore open under Axel's feet and swallowed him whole.

* * *

Roxas woke up drooling on someone's front door in the middle of the night. Easing his head back, he steadied his feet and massaged the muscles that had gone sore after staying in that crooked position for who knows how long. "_Where am I now…?_" he wondered. "_I'll get that girl! Her satanic chants have no effect on me! If anyone else breaks into song or dance, I won't just run away this time. I'll fight back!_" He pounded his fist on the door as a gesture of his determination, but it unfortunately registered as a legitimate knock and the occupant of the household came to answer the door.

"Dr. Farron! I'm glad you could come," greeted the middle-aged woman as she stepped to the side to allow Roxas entry. But of course, he had no idea who "Dr. Farron" referred to, so he just stared. "Please, do come in," she urged.

Under the impression that luck finally led him to the crazy girl's house, Roxas proceeded with caution passed the woman he deemed as the girl's mother. Well, she was somebody's mother as it turned out. "Axel's up in his room. I'll call him down." Before Roxas could make a run for it, the woman shut and bolted the door. "Axel! Dr. Farron's here!"

"Leave me alone!"

The mother gave Roxas a nervous smile. "Axel, don't keep the man waiting, now!"

"I said leave me alone!"

"See what I have to deal with?" she sighed. "But you'll be able to help him, won't you?"

"Uh—"

"You came highly recommended from the Gomez family down the street, and again from the Clarksons just up the road. You certainly have made a name for yourself, doctor, if you don't mind me saying. You're the best psychiatrist we can hope for these days, what with all of our teenagers being moody and gothic. For example, that nice young man Sephiroth was all 'kill the planet' and 'become one with JENOVA' until _you_ set him straight. Now he's more colorful than a pride parade!"

"Err—"

"Maybe it would be best if I just let you handle the rest from here. He never listens to me anymore. I just…sniffle…don't know…sniff…what to do!" The mother broke into a dramatic fit of sobs and dashed off towards the kitchen. When she came back seconds later, she was dressed in an expensive dress with her face covered in makeup and the tears long gone. "Right then; I'll be back at eleven. There's pizza in the fridge and the emergency numbers are on the counter. Have fun! And don't be afraid to whip out those prescriptions! Tah~!" With that, she left Roxas all alone in the house. Of course, his first act was to find an escape route, but he found all the windows and doors were deadlocked…_from the outside_.

"_Who in their right mind installs the locks for a house on the outside?_" The whole thing reeked of the fangirl's sinister stench and Roxas didn't intend on letting her get to him. He toughened up, stiffening his upper lip and furrowing his brows. With both hands rolled into tight fists and his posture straight and ready for anything, Roxas stood tall and proud as he marched further into the house, into the living room, and right in front of the couch where he plopped down for a rest. "_I need a plan,_" he thought. So much for the dramatic confrontation with the clone upstairs.

Sitting there with his arms crossed, he turned strategy after strategy over in his mind. The doppelgangers didn't matter—he knew that much. Whatever became of them meant nothing. They served only as a distraction to keep him away from his primary target: the devil's own daughter, the queen of lusty desires, the princess of pink—_the Fangirl Heartless_.

So he sat there thinking and pondering for the perfect plan; for a way to ambush the kooky girl and live to tell the tale; for a way to trap her in such a way that her powers would be null and void. Yes, her powers…those freaky, creepy, demonic powers that allowed her to manipulate the fabric of all existence to her every whim and fancy. Roxas shuttered at the thought of being a mere plaything for a creature so vile.

Not long into his pondering, Roxas' eyes went wide with terror for his most haunting nightmare had come into realization. Satanic chants bowled out of the room upstairs, and Roxas pulled out all the stops to prevent the evil tunes from liquefying his inner ears and brain. He snatched tissues from the nearby box and stuffed them in his ears, he ripped apart the couch pillows and packed the stuffing onto of the tissues, and to seal the deal, he jammed his fingers in as deep as he could. Yet despite his efforts, the evil music of the damned still resonated with his auditory nerve. Left between the choice of death by heavy metal or insanity by pink portal, Roxas chose the latter and bolted up the stairs.

Only after charging through a door littered with Do Not Enter, Biohazard, and No Dee-Dees Allowed warning signs did Roxas realize the magnitude of the situation. There, sitting in a chewed up leather chair listening to heavy metal from his stereo with the volume setting at maximum, was a young—a _very_ young—Axel doppelganger. Unlike previous replicas, this Axel's pseudo appearance stuck out at first glance, even without the obvious age difference. At about fourteen, pseudo Axel had _black hair_ in place of his usual flaming red spikes, multiple _tattoos_ under his eyes aside from the usual purple marks, _black nail polish_, and _red contact lenses_ to cover his naturally green eyes. If all that wasn't enough, he wore red and black eye liner, decorated most every patch of available skin on his face with piercing (including his tongue and eyelids), and his black clothes were all decorated with silver studs and chains.

Roxas wanted to scream. He would've screamed, but he didn't possess a heart with which to feel horror. So instead of screaming, he looked away and his eyes had the misfortunate of finding a mirror. Standing at about six feet and two inches with a five o'clock shadow on his face, Roxas found his own age didn't match his true self either. He wore a business suit with a tie, and a pricey gold watch shined from its spot on his left wrist.

Roxas screamed.

He pretended to know horror and he screamed. Why? Because now…it was _personal_.

"What has she _done_ to me?"

The music stopped.

"Who the hell are you? Get out of my room!" Now alerted to the presence of a strange man in his room, Axel shot out of his decrepit chair, swerved around his black, nothingness-scented candles and grabbed hold of Roxas. He spun him around and steered him straight for the door. "Get out! You've defiled my sanctuary with your conformist wardrobe!" But before they made it to the doorway, Roxas planted his big, powerful legs firmly into the ground and halted the whole process. "What's your deal, man? Get out of here! I don't let society's bitch in my room!"

"Excuse me?" Roxas said, confused by all of pseudo Axel's mumbo-jumbo. He didn't understand a word of it, and he could care less. "So you're supposed to be Axel? The guy with the limo and movie career was more believable!"

"Are you trying to psyche me out, man? 'Cuz I'm not buying into anything you've got to sell! I know all about you losers—all being herded like cattle. I mean, look at you! Look at you wearing that suit and tie! The whole world's ending, don't you know? The world's ending and you're wearing a tie! We're all gonna die. Everyone—me, you, the crazy cat lady next door. Everyone! And what are you doing? Wearing a _tie_."

The pseudo Axel continued to rant and rave about death, gloom, doom, and destruction for twenty whole minutes. All the way, he had no way of knowing that the tissues and stuffing that couldn't prevent the heavy metal from piercing Roxas' ears, worked just fine and dandy on the deranged goth's prophecies of doom. Roxas stood there, as simple as that, using the free quiet time to once again ponder his plan of action.

"_I know what to do_," he thought while eying the various items tossed throughout the cluttered room. "_There's a box of spray paints under his bed, bag of green weeds hidden under a pile of dirty clothes, several bottles of antiseptic, and a good bunch of lit candles. I can easily use all those items to set off an explosion. The real Axel's impervious to fire, but this guy looks like he'll roast nice and good. I'll use the weeds for kindling, the antiseptic and paint for the explosives, and the candles for the source. It should work, but if not, I see he keeps a stash of razors around his bathroom sink. Worst-case scenario is I threaten him with those, knock him out, and make a run for it. Either way, the explosion should break his bedroom window so I'll have my escape route._"

"…and that's why pain proves that you're alive," Axel finished on a morbid note. He then blinked. "Well?"

"Well what?"

"What do you think?"

Roxas shrugged.

"That's it? No argument? No comeback? No 'Axel, you're an insane, troubled teenager with a hormonal imbalance'?"

"Uh…no…?"

Axel was shocked. "No?"

"Is…is that bad?" Roxas had to stall. During the ranting, he only managed to grab the kindling and explosives. Now he needed the fire, and to get to it, he needed to maneuver around Axel in the most inconspicuous way possible. So he stalled.

"No…it's…it's not. Wow…uh…" Axel rubbed the back of his neck, now rather impressed and relieved that the stranger in his room didn't reprimand him. "So…you believe that stuff, too?"

"Uhh…"

"Oh, embarrassed, huh? No need to be. You're amongst friends here," Axel said, now sporting a smirk. "I can't believe someone as…hot as you…would understand the complexity of life. Even if you are wearing a tie, you're pretty cool."

"Thanks…"

Axel turned around to go back to his chair, giving Roxas the prime opportunity to lunge towards the flaming black candle. But before any lunging could ensue, Axel snapped back around with a playful look. "So…I don't see any jewelry. No band on your left ring finger, either…heh."

"Nope. Don't have one," Roxas answered honestly, not understanding the implications made by the doppelganger.

"Never had one?"

"No."

"I see…"

"_Come on! Turn around! Why's he just staring at me? Maybe he's taking an inventory of all the jewelry I have? Yes, that could be it! Jewelry must be a status symbol for this species of Heartless. Best not to panic and just wait for him to check me out. So long as he doesn't probe my pockets, I should be okay."_

"So my mom said something about a shrink…" Axel said after a good ten minutes of undressing Roxas with his eyes. "That wouldn't be you by any chance, would it?"

Shrink? _Him_? He was six-foot-two, for crying out loud! Roxas didn't shrink; he blew up! "Uh, no. I'm not. I just…got lost and she pulled me off the street without a word."

Axel chuckled. "Must be fate."

"Fate?"

"We don't have free will. We're all a bunch of slaves. Fate controls us…" Axel went on another ten-minute rant, but didn't take his eyes off Roxas this time. No, he wanted to stare at that man for all eternity if he could. "…so you can see why death is the ultimate liberation and curse at the same time."

"Uh, sure."

At that simple answer, Axel frowned for the first time since the last rant. "What do you mean, 'Uh, sure'? That's all you have to say?"

"Well—"

"Don't you 'well' me! You _lied_ to me!"

Roxas was taken aback by the sudden mood swing. "What?"

"I thought you understood, but you don't, _do you_?"

"Huh, wh—"

"You really _are_ that shrink, aren't you? Tricking me by pretending to get it when you don't! Seducing me just to get me to agree to meds."

"Doing _what?_"

"I hate you! Get out of my room! I never want to see you again!" Axel pushed past Roxas and flung himself at the bathroom sink. He picked up one of the razors and prepared to cut himself along a major vein. "No one understands me! Everything in my life is a lie!" But the razors were violently kicked out of his grasp before they ever touched his skin.

"You're more pitiful than I thought," Roxas sneered, now toughening up to take the bull by the horns. No more stalling. The candles were there all free for him to use, but he decided to prolong his stay just to set things straight and get the message out there. He grabbed hold of the doppelganger's shirt and brought him up high so they met face-to-face. "The _real_ Axel would never resort to self-mutilation. He's no chicken. Axel faces every challenge head-on, giving it his all and never throwing in the towel. And one more thing: he would give _anything_ to have a heart and be able to feel genuine emotions—both the good_ and_ the bad. He'd take them all and enjoy everything life has to offer regardless of the pain because he knows the good outweighs the bad—and the good is being able to feel alive. Remember that the next time you want to trick me into believing you're him." He relinquished hold of pseudo Axel, and before the disturbed teen with a hormonal imbalance could react, Roxas had launched himself towards the candles and lit his bomb. The room exploded and blew out the window as per Roxas' plan.

Though he didn't account for the magnitude of the blast. It turned out that those few bottles of antiseptic were just the tip of the iceberg. Bottles of hard liquor were hidden under the mattress and added enough force to the explosion to send Roxas flying towards the ground. The whole house went up in flames—or it would have if the fangirl didn't arrive just in time.

"This is something I'd expect from _Axel_, not _you_, Roxy-poo!" With a snap of her fingers, the whole scene vanished. "From now on, no more flammable alcohol for you."

"Alcohol's _always_ flammable," Roxas spat as he pulled out his reserves from inside of his pockets. One spray paint can left, and he managed to snag a lighter from inside the chewed up chair's stuffing. "And so's this!" Roxas uncapped the can, lit the lighter, and pressed down on the paint's nozzle thus creating a makeshift flamethrower when the paint passed through the fire.

"I don't think so~!" the fangirl sing-songed as a pink portal appeared to devour both Roxas and the fire all in one big gulp.

* * *

A/N: If you're unfamiliar with the character Deadpool, he likes to break the fourth wall. Also, if you're not familiar with Logan (a.k.a. Wolverine), he has a crush on Jean Grey, which transferred over to Axel since he took her spot.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6: A Certain Uncertainty**

Are you wondering of you've clicked on the right story? The chapter heading's probably not what you expected. I know, I know—it has an actual _name_ this time! Shocking!

But you know what's even _more_ shocking? Sticking your katana into a 100,000,000GW power conductor—that's what. Seriously, don't try it at home, kids. Do it at your local power station instead, and make sure you stuff marshmallows into your pockets for roasting. You'll be starving like a hobo on Weight Watchers after the electrocution forces your bowels and guts to spew everything in your system out both ends.

Oh! Speaking of spewing stuff, that narrator chump's still feeling a bit wonky, so I'm taking over until he stops foaming at the mouth—and with all that vinegar and baking soda I force-fed him, it _could_ take a while. So looks like you're stuck with your old pal Deadpool for the time being!

"But wait!" you ask. "Didn't you run away like a little girl in the last chapter, never to be seen again?" I wasn't _running away to never be seen again_; I was running to _get in some cardio_ before this chapter could get published. Get your facts straight. Once you hook a Deadpool, he never lets go. Ya dig mah drift?

Now let's get this show on the road! On the last episode of Dragon Balls Zeta, Gokudo and Veggie Boy teamed up to tackle every vegetable's worst nightmare: Sal Monella! The evil mastermind Sal—notorious for using chickens, bovines, and corrupted politicians as his evil henchmen—had set a herd of his cronies on the poor, unsuspecting schmucks of North-by-Northwest City. Will Carrot Top and Vegetable Head be able to save the gelatinous population of the city before it's too late?

Who knows? Hell, more importantly: _who cares?_

Roxas woke up somewhere fuzzy and pink—maybe the fangirl's bosom. Ha! You wish. Or rather, _she_ wishes. Not sure what you people are thinking, and really, I don't want to know. I've got enough crazy for 10 million armies of you lot and then some. So keep your panties on 'cuz Roxas opened his eyes and realized all the pink and fuzzy stuff was on the inside of his eyelids in the recurring nightmare rolling like a private movie in his brain. He _really_ woke up in a—well, I'll just let _him_ tell you. It's more fun that way. Take it away, Roxas!

…Roxas? Where are you, little dude? Wakey-wakey!

Huh, looks like my innocent little attempt to spruce up the place with a chapter heading threw off the time-space continuum. Or just gave Roxas a bad case of trapped gas. Whew! By the smell of that stench coming from the little pretty boy's room, I can tell this is gonna take a while folks. So what's say we take a look at Axel instead? Or better yet, what if we flick on the tube and watch some _Golden Girls_?

Hey, now! Don't give me that look! It's not _my_ fault Roxas likes burritos! I couldn't keep that little sucker away from my Mexican Mix Combo Platter if I stabbed him with a High Frequency Blade! Which I did. So yeah.

Ahem.

Axel!

Axel—who was not mysteriously stabbed multiple times and left unconscious on the floor of some bathroom somewhere in a rip through the fabric of time-space in a sad effort to make the chapter title seem necessary—wandered around some weird town city place thing dystopia.

Okay, narrator's break! Phew, all that storytelling's hard work. Who wants a burrito? Deadpool wants a burrito! Is it true? Mmmhmm! I do, I do, I _do-oohh_!

So where was I? Oh yeah—Axel. He was wandering around trying to find the little pink pixie wannabe who trapped him in this bland, distasteful, not-enough-baked-beans hellhole of a setting. By the looks of how she put all her preschool learnin's to good use, the cardboard-box-fort-of-a-town clearly shows that she's no Frank Gehry. If you don't know who that is (and you probably don't), gir'friend, you need to get over your slash fic craze and gets you some edumacations fo' realz. Then you could be a hit at parties like yours truly! Though you may want to watch out for how many hits you take. Although it's delicious and nutritious, brain jam on your toast in excess quantities will give you one nasty headache.

Hold on; I'm being told by the Executive Producer that my motor-mouth superpower is _super effective_ against driving away the readership. Someone get me a box of rare candy! It's time to party like it's 2011! Because it is!

Looks like my job's done here. For now, at any rate. Now if you'll excuse me, I ate one too many burritos.

"…if it's the last—huh?" Axel stopped abruptly in his speech. "That's odd; I've been muttering to myself for at least half an hour, but it feels like none of it registered until now." He shrugged and continued walking, not thinking anything of it. "Oh well. No matter. I've got to find that little pink pixie wannabe who trapped me in this bland, distasteful world and burn her magic book! It's the only way to free Roxas and me from this godforsaken hellhole."

Axel continued wandering around until he heard an all-too familiar voice call out to him. He cringed and grit his teeth as he saw Sora running full-force towards him.

"Hey, hey!" said Sora with such a bright, shiny smile that was powerful enough to outmatch three blazing suns. "There you are!"

"Oh joy, oh rapture; it's everyone's favorite brother/cousin/hyperactive doofus," Axel drawled while shielding his eyes from Sora's extreme radiance. "So what are you this time? His Great Aunt Hilda who just happened to get irradiated in a freak accident at a nuclear power plant?"

Sora laughed. "You're so funny, a Certain Redhead! No wonder a Certain Blonde's always doubling over in tears!"

"Excuse me?" That sad attempt at a coherent sentence left Axel's head spinning. "Did pinky pixie turn your brain to goo this time 'round or what? The heck's a _certain redhead_?"

"You are, silly! Don't tell me you forgot your own name!"

"Sora, the only one who's forgotten his own name is Roxas. And with any luck, I can keep him that way for a good long while, or else I may just have to plot your assassination someday by kidnapping your girlfriend to use as bait."

Sora furrowed his brows in confusion. "_Sora_? _Roxas_? Who are they?"

"You're Sora."

The radiantly smiling lug nut chuckled some more. Seriously, what the hell's so frickin' funny? What a loon. He must be high on laughing gas or something. (I'm baaaaaack! Had to buy some new grundies, though. My burritos stained the last pair).

"Tee-hee! Stop making me laugh so hard, a Certain Redhead!" squeed Sora. Wait, _squeed_? What is he, a girl? Geez, Pinky! Don't start with the gender bending! I don't know if I'll be able to keep those enchiladas down! "My name's a Certain Brunette! You know that."

Okay, now I _know_ she's gender bending! The suffix –ette designates a chickity chick. If she was serious about keeping Sora's 'nads intact, she would've at _least_ called him _Brunet_!

"Oh brother," Axel sighed with a roll of his eyes. "And Roxas is who, exactly?"

"You mean my brother, a.k.a., your schnookums boyfriend? He's a Certain Blonde, of course!"

So I guess Roxas isn't a man, either, huh? _Blonde_ is a _girl_. Us guys are _Blond_. Get with the program, Pinky McPinkster!

Urk… I think the schnookums part made me a bit glargggh…queasy… Blaaarrrgghh…hack… Ugh… I was right. Those enchiladas are makin' the bubblies in my tumbblies! Brb!

"By the way, a Certain Redhead; weren't you supposed to take a Certain Blonde to see _My Big Fat Certain Wedding_ today?"

Axel, who was now casually sitting on a bench reading a newspaper while Sor—I mean, _a Certain Brunette_ continued blabbing on, just hummed in response.

"A Certain Silverette and I—"

Deadpool interrupts this dialogue (read: _monologue_) to bring you a special news bulletin:

What the fudgecicles is a _silverette_? Pinky, whatever drugs you on, gir'friend, you best be stoppin' 'em! Don't make me snaps mah finga's at ya! You know I will!

We now return you to your regularly scheduled dialogue (monologue) already in progress:

"…and that makes me all tingly inside!" Brunette concluded after hours upon hours of nonstop bubbly banter about his and Silverette's escapades.

All while a Certain Brunette was talking, Axel had managed to read today's paper, take a much needed nap, and listen to Forest Gump's full life story seven times before the bus came and took him far, far away from this dump and the fangirl's clutches.

But then the bus got a flat tire and the National Guard was sent in to "rescue" the "survivors" and bring them back into town. Axel was hauled back to the bench where he moaned and groaned.

"Yeah, yeah," he grumbled. "That's nice and all. But do you know where I can find a…" A devilish smile crossed his lips. Two could play that game. "I'm looking for a_ Certain Pink Fangirl_. Know her?"

"Nope!" Brunette replied with his brightest smile yet. Why he smiled so much at that, no one will ever know. Maybe it's better that way. "But I _do_ know where you can find a Certain Pinkette! He's planting flowers right behind you!"

"Hiiii!" waved a Certain Pinkette from his garden. Although the way his cheekbones were high and his hips were wide, you could have _sworn_ that "he" was in fact a "she".

Oh SNAP! I was _this close_ to coming back to narrate! Stop with the _yaaarrrkkk gllaackk…_ BRB!

"You know," said Axel who was clearly not paying any attention to Brunette or Pinkette. "I _just_ realized that even though I'm wearing tight, black leather pants and some other random, leathery crap all over my body, I _still _have that belt Bozo the Assassin gave me. Who would've thought it?"

As Brunette continued to babble about flowers and pretty things, Axel played around with Deadpool's belt.

It's a _Plot Device!_ Sheesh! Now let me cut out my corrupted intestinal tract with this razor-sharp dagger in peace!

"I wonder if it still works?" said Axel as he played around with the bel—_Plot Device_. But unfortunately, the damages it previously sustained at the clutches of the kooky girl remained intact and Axel found that it did little more than hold up his tight pants. If even, since they were so tight he could barely walk.

"…And there's my ride! I'll see you later, a Certain Redhead!" Brunette waved goodbye to Axel and then sped off towards Silverette's antique '60s era styled truck car unicycle hybrid thing. They then rode off into the sunset. Well, that is until Brunette smiled. The sun stopped setting then. All four of them.

"Where the hell's the Roxas fake so I can hurry up and kill the little leech?" Axel wondered as he tapped his impatient foot. Some more people passed him and waved: a Certain Bookworm, a Certain Auburn-headed, a Certain Darker Brunette, a Certain Yellow-haired, a Certain Blackette, a Certain Rockette (oh wait, no. She's here to get that parasol I stole from her two chapters ago), a Certain Someone, a Certain Nobody, a Certain Bluette, a Certain Geezer, and some whackadoo named Mansex.

After all these certain failed attempts at characterization sped on by, a Certain Blonde finally showed up wearing a tutu and waving around a Magical Girl wand.

…Okay, so that last bit was a lie. But seriously! He may as well have considering that scandalous "e" at the end of his descriptive feature!

Anyway, Blondy shows up and Axel's all "I'ma kill you!" and Blondy's all "But I wuvs you!" and Axel's all "Bam! Wham! Zock!" and Blondy's all "Oooof! Gack! Splurt!"

Yeah.

I'll let the other guy narrate since I kinda went and killed everyone. I hope he can bring them back from the dead. Hee.

Axel didn't let the fake get two words in edgewise before he unbuckled his Plot Device and wrapped it around the doppelganger's throat. He then strangled the fake to death and twisted his neck for good measure, just to make sure the crunch was loud enough to be heard by the kooky fangirl.

"You're a monster, Axel!" shrieked the fangirl in horror.

"You're damn right, toots." With a sinister grin, Axel flexed his arms and lassoed the Plot Device around the fangirl. "And _you're_ next!"

Or rather, that's what Axel wanted to happen. Instead, the fangirl appeared with a snap of her fingers and another cutesy, little "tee-hee".

"Aww! Looks like someone's sexually frustrated! No worries! Let me make it alllll better! Tee-hee!"

A pink vortex opened to swallow Axel, who was screaming a series of expletives in his head.

Wow, and people think _I'm_ a mental case! Seriously, just because a guy hears voices and has rampant bouts of Pool-O-Vision, he's automatically labeled insane and dangerously unstable. So _what_ if I run around gunning people who just ask if they can take my coat! At least _I_ don't toss people into pink vortexes! Black ones, sure. Green ones? Maybe. But _pink_? That's just sick!

I'm both mortified and appalled! Maybe I should wash my eyes out with bleach. …Nah. Heh, and if Pinky thinks Axel's gonna get any around here, she needs to wait a few years for Pre-K Sex Ed. It's more informative than the purple dinosaur for a teacher she has now.

Hmm… I wonder where Roxas went? He wasn't in the bathroom the last four times I went to blow chunks. Maybe he's all better now?

* * *

Roxas awoke to the loud, dramatic sobs coming from the Axel doppelganger. The two were in a very large space that had a science fiction aesthetic property to it. A large control panel was stationed in the dead center of the area, with a long, green tube protruding from the top. The tube made a unique noise as some kind of energy pistol moved up and down.

"Where am—" Roxas was cut off when Axel threw his arms around him.

"Oh, Doctor! You've regenerated again! Glorious day!"

"Huh?"

"This is your thirteenth form!" Axel continued to babble. "I thought for sure the way the Daleks fired that radiation cannon at you that you wouldn't survive! But here you are! All safe and sound, and the Dalek Empire is once again crushed."

Roxas pushed free of the nonsense speaking doppelganger and stumbled towards the control panel. The ship they were on was spinning wildly out of control and he could barely keep his balance.

"Tell me, Doctor," said Axel as he approached. "You still love redheads, right? 'Cuz I think _this_ form is…sleeker than the last."

Roxas was going to be sick, although he couldn't tell if it was from the fake's gestures or from motion sickness. He desperately looked around for a weapon he could fire off in his defense, but all he found was a fez and a pair of undergarments (he wasn't sure whose). When he instinctively tried to swing the Keyblade at the fake, he found only a novelty pen thing that did little more than shine pretty colors. It was a strange little doohicky with flashy lights and sounds that was cheaply made in China.

"Oh, and before you ask: no, still not ginger." Axel drew nearer, seemingly able to maneuver along the rapidly rocking ship as if it was normal. All the while, Roxas continued to look for a way to neutralize the enemy and escape to find the Heartless responsible for all his suffering.

To his good fortune, Roxas spied the door to the far left. He waited for Axel to draw still closer before timing his escaped. When Axel was at just the right distance, Roxas tripped the fake and slammed his head into the control panel. He then fled to the door and threw it open only to find the vast expanse of the universe right outside the threshold.

"What the heck is going on here?" he exclaimed.

"You're the Doctor's latest regeneration," Axel explained. "We're inside the TARDIS—off to explore time and space while saving the universe in the process."

"Doctor? Doctor _who_?"

Axel gave a sly smile. "Exactly."

Wow, talk about cheesy. I go to the concession stand to get myself some high fructose corn syrup sody pop and a bagful of melted butter only to come back to _this_? Russell T. Davies eat your heart out! Pinky's outdone both you and Moffat to the tenth power! Whoo! Come on, Roxas! Break that circle! Whoo! Whoo! Doctor, Axel friends!

And no, before you ask, I have no idea what I'm talking about. While I was waiting in line for my goodies, I googled all this crap on the smartphone I stole from the guy in back of me. I then slashed my way up to the front of the line and quizzed the pimple-faced, Dan Castellaneta-voiced chump behind the cash register just to double-check my facts. If anything I have said or will say isn't accurate enough for you Whovians, blame the dead guy decomposing in the popcorn.

Anyway, where'd we leave Roxas? Oh yeah, that little fighter would rather choke in space than hamhug an Axel in a cowboy hat. He jumped clean into the universe, but because he's the Doctor and his TARDIS loves him more than any sentient machine is meant to love a man, he got reeled back in. Then Billie Piper and Catherine Tate rained from the sky, and I _think_ that's Alex Kingston over there. Let me use these binoculars and—nope, sorry folks. That's Arthur Darvill. Nice curves, dude. I guess 2000 years of plastic buildup does that.

Oh, hey! Would you look at that? I'm outta butter! Be right back, peeps! Save my seat!

Before he knew it, Roxas was in a TARDIS filled with Doctor Who companions spanning from his supposed granddaughter all the way to his supposed last companions prior to Axel. Everyone threw themselves at Roxas' feet, trying to claim him as their own. Regardless of age, gender, or marital status, everyone was after Roxas' affection.

The Key of Destiny took immediate notice of his supposed "companions" competitive nature and quickly used it to his advantage.

"Everyone," he announced in a loud, clear voice that got the mob's attention. "If you want my, uh—"

"Affection and infinite devotion!" shouted the crowd.

"Uh, yeah. That. If you want _that_, fight for it."

"But the Doctor would never encourage violence!" said Sarah Jane. "That must be the secret! Doctor, I see through your test! Surely, I have won."

"Uh, no. Fight each other," Roxas said. He then added a quick "please" at the end to seal the deal, and not long after, everyone tackled each other in a panicked frenzy.

Roxas noticed he had a bowtie on and ripped it off, followed by his cumbersome Jack Sparrow-like pirate coat and then kicked off his big, yellow shoes. Whoever the twelfth "Doctor" was, he sure as hell didn't know how to coordinate his dress code. Roxas then spotted a photo of the Twelfth Doctor—a picture of Sora dressed in all that stuff. If he had known who Sora was, he may have cared. But he didn't know, so he didn't care.

While Martha bit off Rose's ear and Donna cracked Amy and River's skulls together, Axel dueled with Captain Jack Harkness. Jack flirted with Axel in an attempt to lower his guard, but Axel's sights were too dead set on the prize awaiting him at the end of the battle royale to fall into that trap.

Okay, so I _just_ googled this Jack guy and realized that his behavior is canon. Who would've thunk it? He's the only in-character, fabricated schmuck in this whole story! Googling is fun! Carry on, New Nate (that's my nickname for the Narrator!).

While everyone was busy killing each other in order to win the Doctor's affection, Roxas ran barefoot circles around the TARDIS in search of the fangirl. But she was nowhere in sight.

"Hmm, I think I'm starting to see a pattern in this Heartless' battle strategy," Roxas thought out loud as he passed the swimming pool. "She only comes out after I've defeated one of her generals! If one of those other Heartless manages to destroy the Axel fake, I'll get my chance to strike! I'd better prepare for the encounter, though. She'll only give me a few seconds before she casts that time spell on me again! I have to act fast!"

Roxas scanned more rooms of the TARDIS, this time for weapons. But any rooms that may have been arsenals once, were decorated with pink, frilly things that looked very out of place aboard an intergalactic, time-traveling space ship that was bigger on the inside. Some rooms had stuffed animals, others were nesting grounds for kittens and puppies. The whole of the TARDIS was fangirlrized.

"This place is tainted with Heartless secretions!" Roxas exclaimed at the sight of all things cute and cuddly. "She must've known I'd attempt staging a counter offensive! Darn it! There's got to be _something_ of use aboard this ship!"

That little trooper trudged on like a tapeworm in Yaminashi's bad sushi-ridden guts! Who's Yaminashi? Your guess is as good as mine.

Anyway, while Dr. Roxas was busy tracking down party poppers and bonbons, the mosh pit in the control room was littered with bodies. No, _not_ in an orgy. Seriously, girls. This isn't Word Association; it's a narrative about a kid who fell down a well and whose only hope is a dog who loves him more than his folks ever will.

Look, my point is: give peas a chance. That's all I'm saying. They're green, sticky, and yucky—I know! Believe me, _I know_. But they're a healthy, nutritious source of ready-to-fire spitballs at your dinner table. That, and they don't incite any sexual innuendos.

So while those bodies were feasting on peas and/or decaying, only two contenders were left. Well, three if you could the bouncing, bundle of joy that is the TARDIS. Somehow, the ship threw up its soul into Rose's inanimate body and joined Axel and K-9 for the final battle.

"Master will be mine," beep-bopped K-9.

"You're a bad dog!" spat TARDIS/Rose.

"Affirmative!" K-9 agreed as he attempted to roast Rose/TARDIS with a flamethrower. But because Rose is all TARDIS and stuff, she like, bent the fabric of time-space to negate K-9's very existence, and therefore eliminate him from the fight altogether.

"You're next!" said TARDIS/Rose, but before she could erase Axel from all existence, a hole opened in the time-space continuum and forced the universe to collapse on the TARDIS, thus destroying TARDIS/Rose and leaving Axel as the crowned champion. For like, half a millisecond.

So yeah, through no fault of his own, Roxas found himself floating around a blank, white field of whiteness. Forget being a Nobody! _Nothing_ existed in _that_ place! Not even him! And without _any_—that's right, folks; you read right—without _any_ interference from Pipsqueak Pinky, Roxas disappeared into a new alternative storyline.

"_13 Bannerman Road is where Roxas James Smith lives!"_ announced some peppy, perky teen who was clearly on happy pills. His shrill, squeaky voice yanked Roxas way from Dream Land and the kid found himself behind the wheel of some tiny tot car that drove on the wrong side of the road.

Roxas wrestled with the seatbelt and flipped Action Man style into the driveway where he heard the all-too familiar whooshing noises of the TARDIS. A blue police box appeared in front of him and the door was thrown open revealing Axel.

_No_, girls! Not _that_ kind of revealing! Sheesh! Can't a guy tell an innocent, carnage-ridden story these days without people getting the wrong idea? Keep it together, please! If you _must_ know, he's covered from head-to-toe in _clothing_. He's even wearing knee socks! _I checked_. No need to pull his pants down for a double-check.

"Hello, Roxas James," said Axel in a breathy voice. "It's me; the retconned Eighth Doctor."

Without thinking twice, Roxas pulled out the only thing in his pocket and fired it off as a weapon. He used his sonic lipstick (you read right) and forced the fake Axel's head to implode. He then regenerated into the retconned Ninth Doctor, who was Lea. Roxas rinsed and repeated until Reno came along as Ten, Quinton Flynn as Eleven, and some naked girly man named Raiden as Twelve (there, you got your fix! Happy?). When Thirteen was born, he was Roxas again and the universe once again collapsed on itself due to some weird technicality or budgeting error. I don't know; you be the judge.

As he floated around in that infinite expanse of white once more, Roxas could hear a man's voice echo across the field, yelling something at him.

"Snake, you can't do that!" shouted the angry voice. "You've created a time paradox!"

Without appearance from the fangirl (who probably couldn't make it due to the fact that _nothing_ could exist in that nexus of _nothing_), a pink portal opened up and swallowed Roxas whole before the universe had a chance to reset and make him the leader of the Torchwood Cardiff branch.

* * *

A/N: I mean no offense to transgendered people. I'm only satirizing how some stories destroy the masculinity of male characters by attributing feminine qualities to them that they do not possess in canon materials.


	7. Chapter 7

Roxas awoke in a strange domain. It did not match any of the zany locales he had previously visited, and he was subconsciously aware of the rather intellectual narration. He took several steps away from the bench that served as his makeshift bed and approached a man in rags who sputtered, coughed and wheezed nonstop. Although cautious at first, Roxas slowly lowered his guard as he realized the man was in a great deal of pain. He rushed towards him and asked with all the concern his nonexistent heart could muster if there was anything he could do for the poor wretch.

But alas, there is nothing that can be done for this Narrator. He will die as he lived: talking nonstop.

"Sir? Sir! Are you all right? Hey!" Roxas tried to shake the Narrator from his narrating trance, but to no avail. He was about to give up and leave to continue his quest against the evil forces of the fangirl when he noticed the frail man had made an enormous effort to raise his hand and point towards a dirtied trashcan not too far from their location.

"You want me to look in the trashcan?" he asked, his eyes narrowed in skepticism. What could he possibly find of use in a trashcan aside from a half-eaten sandwich and a slumbering raccoon? But when it became apparent that the catatonic man would not reply, Roxas resigned himself to scrounge through the trash. After all, he had nothing better to do. Without an Axel doppelganger to kill, the fangirl wouldn't show herself, he knew. So Roxas tipped over the trashcan and searched through the rotted fruits and discarded newspapers.

Something eventually caught his eye. A glint of silver shined from underneath a maggot-infested hunk of meat. Roxas snatched up the piece of silver, at first mistaking it for a Keyblade keychain. But upon closer inspection, he realized it was a tiny key. "What is this?" he wondered aloud, hoping that perhaps the sickly man would snap to his senses long enough to provide an answer. But no such answer ever came, and Roxas' words were lost to the wind.

Roxas held the key up to the pale, ethereal sun that shined everywhere and nowhere at the same time. Only in a land lost to time-space could such a phenomenon be possible, but Roxas could hardly be bothered to notice. He was too upset by the circumstances to care. The tiny key was no Keyblade; he couldn't fight with it, and he didn't know what lock it opened—if any. It was useless to him.

As he let out a resigned sigh and prepared to pocket the key, however, it started to glow with the same, pale ethereal glow as the sun. A beam of light shot out from the miniature Keyblade and a door opened. To where? Roxas didn't care; he ran straight to the door and walked through it into a new realm.

The Narrator was then visited by the fangirl and the exchange that occurred cannot be recounted. His voice soon faded…

* * *

Hey, folks! Didya miss me? It's your old pal Deadpool! Hidey-ho, there!

Remember that Narrator guy? Yeah? You do? Wow, that's weird. I would have thought for _sure_ that after he died everyone would forget him! Isn't that Kingdom Hearts logic or something? I mean, you don't remember Sora, right? Huh. Well anyways, I hope you guys can attend the sap's funeral. Guy's got no friends and family since, you know, he was disembodied and stuff.

You're probably wondering how I could shove baking soda and vinegar down the throat of a guy who's got no throat. That's simple, really. See, it all started a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away. Mr. Pea and Mrs. Pea got together like two peas in a peapod and hey diddle, diddle.

What were we talking about? Oh, yeah! Axel! Right. He was the dish that ran away with the spoon carrying my Plot Device! But because a cow jumped over it and sprayed its genetically modified human-cow hybrid milk everywhere, it broke. So now, he's looking to get it fixed because he's smart.

Oh, and hey. Remember that guy I told you was dead? Yeah, well, he's not. Have fun with him while I run off to prepare for the final chapter of this story. It's gonna be a doozy! Toodles!

* * *

Axel was somewhere in the Wild West. He could tell because there was a sign just outside the town that said: "You are now entering the Wild West circa 19th century USA". That, and he, along with everyone else in town, was wearing cowboy apparel. He tossed off his ten-gallon hat since he never much cared for hats, but it just came whizzing back like a boomerang.

"Damn hat!" he muttered as he tossed the accursed thing to the ground and stomped on it. But like those shiny shoes he had during the wedding fiasco, the indestructible hat only became larger and more pronounced the more Axel tried to spite it. In the end, he dropped it off in a trough and left it for animal feed.

"_Alright, here's the plan,"_ he thought to himself. _"I find someone to fix this belt and then press the big, red button in the center to see what happens. Big, red buttons are notorious treasure troves of mayhem and chaos, and that's _exactly_ what I need right now."_

Of course, finding someone technologically advanced enough to fix a teleportational Plot Device that was built in the 21st Century by a squirrelly-eyed guy living in his mother's basement was a hard enough task to do in the _real_ world. But in a world where cowboys wore pink and walked around with manicures, pedicures, and pink poodles? Axel didn't need to accessorize with his belt—just _fix the damn thing_.

"Oh boy… Now I _know_ that chick's never paid attention in her history class," Axel mused as he watched a pop singing cowboy band dance along surrounded by a pack of groupies dressed in early 90's apparel. He tried not to cringe when Master Xehanort asked Demyx—the lead guitar player—to autograph his stomach. The guy barely had any meat on his bones and looked like something even the three hyenas from the Pride Lands wouldn't poke with a stick.

While running away from the sight as fast as possible, Axel stumbled across the last person he wanted to see: copycat Roxas. The fake leaned against a post with a reed sticking out of his mouth. His shirt was open to show off his abs and the brim of his hat covered his eyes in a cool-dude kind of way. Axel wanted to kill the guy right then and there, so he did.

The fangirl showed up and pink vortex and yadda, yadda.

The next place Axel found himself traversing—or rather, swimming in—was someplace under the sea. Axel hated water. It was a biological fact. Yes, _biological_. His body was a natural source of fire, and the ocean was a natural source of water. It didn't take three nerds hooked up to a Swedish supercomputer that operated off a high-tech Moon Base to figure out that fire and water don't mix. So before he could even get his hands—or flippers—around the Roxas fake's neck—gills—Axel swam up to the surface and choked himself.

Unfortunately, "Roxas" found him and nursed him back to health.

"Oh, Axel!" blubbed underwater merman Roxas. "I feared for the worst!"

"Well, at least I don't have to go hunting for you now," Axel muttered as he grabbed hold of one of Roxas' hands.

The fangirl swooned, thinking Axel meant to give his dear Roxas a dear, sweet caress. But instead, he pricked the guy's fishy finger and watched as a shark swam up and took a big bite out of his "beloved".

More pink vortex voodoo later, and Axel found himself aboard a ship bound for Monkey Island. Acting fast, he grabbed hold of some roots, some beer, and some breath mints. Shaking them all together in a seltzer bottle, he sprayed the nearby Ghost Pirate LeRoxas with the concoction, killing him in the process.

After a few Avada Kedavra spells on the Nobody Who Must Not Be Named (coughRoxascough), a bucket of water on the Wicked Witch of the World That Never Was, a bucket of acid on Roxas the Glenda-Certified Good Witch, a stake through Roxula's heart, a silver bullet through WereRoxas, a vacuum cleaner to Roxas the Friendly Ghost, and a backpack full of plastic explosives tossed into Roxas' Chocolate Factory (with Roxas still inside and drowning in the chocolate waterfall), Axel was _finally_ teleported to the only world that could fix his Plot Device.

"I'll take Crappy Plots for 1000, Alexei," said Axel from behind his podium.

"Daily Double!" said Alexei. "A hellish nightmare involving two unwilling friends."

Axel beeped in. "What is my life story ever since I came to this dump?"

"Correct!"

"Whoo!" Axel did a victory jump, smiling like crazy at his phenomenal score while the two saps next to him (Zexion and Roxas, who was bound and gagged) both had scores of 0.

"Simply amazing, Axel! You've wiped out the whole board!"

"Whoo!" Axel exclaimed again.

"And now it's time for Final Jeopardy. How much will you bid?"

"All in the pot!"

"Okay, and here's the answer: Someone who's dying of thirst."

Some snappy tick-tocking music played while Axel wrote his answer down with a chipper little hum. Finally, things were starting to look up for him. When the music stopped, Alexei went down the line asking for the question.

"What did you say, Zexion?"

"Who is Flounder?" came the reply.

"Ohh, sorry! No! Better luck next time."

"A pox upon you all!" muttered the goth/emo as he brooded off the stage.

"And you, Roxas? What did you say?"

Gagged Roxas tried to scream for help, but his words were all muffled.

Alexei gave a little laugh, not at all phased by his contestant's plight. Why? Well, Axel always _did_ have a way with words. "Oh, I'm sorry! That's not correct."

More muffled moans came from Roxas, but Axel kicked him to the ground and showed off his answer.

"Who is the Narrator?" Axel proudly stated.

"Correct!" Alexei said as some victory music played. "Axel, you've won Final Jeopardy, and with the most money collected, you've won the game!"

"Whoo!"

"Now, you can either keep your earnings or you can take home this fabulous, new, designer's Plot Device repair kit!"

"I'll take the repair kit, Alexei!"

"The repair kit it is! Thanks for playing Russian Mob Jeopardy!" Alexei shot the other two contestants and forked over the black market, nuclear powered equipment necessary to repair the Plot Device. "Thanks for tuning in and we'll see you again next time!"

Of course, someone like Alexei couldn't kill off the Roxas doppelganger. By some freaky twist of fate, the bullet meant for him ricocheted off the nylon rope binding him around the chest and hit a camera instead. The impact of the shot, however, was enough to tear deep enough into the nylon to allow Roxas some wiggle room. While Axel tinkered away with his Plot Device, Roxas shook free of his constraints and charged towards Axel. Just seconds away from repairing the broken device, Axel was tackled to the ground and the belt went flying out of his hands.

"What the hell?" Axel exclaimed, not sure what happened.

"You jackass!" Roxas shouted in some kind of quasi-Russian accent. "You're no comrade of mine! We were supposed to shoot the capitalist pigs together!"

"Go shoot them yourself! I've got a tiny tot to trample!" Axel wrestled free of Comrade Roxas' grip and kicked the commie below the belt. "That's for the wedding!"

But because the fangirl lacked any detailed understanding of male anatomy, Axel's kick didn't register. Apparently, Ruskie Roxas wasn't man enough for it. The commie got Axel in a chokehold and slowly cut off his air supply. No matter how much Axel struggled, he couldn't break free.

"_So I can't kick him below the belt, but he's got the grip of a titanium vice? What the hell?"_

"I trusted you, comrade! Trusted you to win the money for Mother Russia!"

"_It's the frickin' Black Market! If your 'Mother Russia' wants money, it can switch its economic policies towards more profitable ventures!"_ Axel wanted to shout as he bashed Roxas' head in. Sadly, he could neither speak nor bash anyone's head in.

"I kill you now. Goodbye, comrade." Roxas made to pop Axel's head like a grape, but then suddenly stopped. "Oh noes!" he cried in horror as he let Axel go. "My other personality took over again! Sowwy, Axel!"

Axel hacked, coughed, and wheezed out a "What the hell?" before sliding himself towards the plot device.

"Lemme hug you! Hugs make you better!" said the new, creepy Roxas who probably liked to play with dollies and eat crumpets too.

Sweat dripped down Axel's forehead as he rushed to screw in the final screw and snap the casing of his Plot Device close. Roxas was only centimeters away with his vice-like hug, and teetered on the edge of another psychotic breakdown into the crazy comrade. Placing all his faith into the crazy, clinically insane and unstable mercenary that gave him the flashy belt in the first place, Axel pressed the red button and prayed for the best.

A flash of lightning struck him, and before he knew it, he was far away from Russian Mob Jeopardy and the comrade copy. In fact, he was far away from anything and everything fangirl. He floated around some kind of blue whirlpool suspended in space. In the center of it, beams of raw light energy were sucked in at a swirling angle. The gravitational pull from the vortex pulled him in. But unlike its pink counterpart, which induced nausea, cramps, swelling of the ankles, migraines, and the sudden urge to travel to Japan and fight for stronger copyright laws, the blue vortex filled Axel with such a comfortable sense of peace and tranquility, that for a moment, Axel forgot he didn't have a heart with which to experience true bliss.

Axel was sucked into the vortex and transported to a dark, dank realm. The only light in the place came from a series of oddly shaped lampposts lined along a moat that surrounding the tiny island. On the tip-top of the tiny island's center hill, was a stainless steal barred cage. A bright blue light floated around within the cage, idly allowing itself to drift and bounce from one end of the prison to the next.

No longer feeling carefree and at peace, Axel traveled up the hill of the dank and foggy island. "What do we have here…?" he wondered as he peeked into the cage. At the sight of him, the little ball of light did a flip in midair and hovered in closer.

"Hey, listen!" said the ball of light.

Axel crossed his arms. "Why should I? You're probably some kind of weird and whacky Roxas that I don't really care to know much about."

"I'm not Roxas; I'm the leader of the Fan Faeries!"

"Say what?"

"Okay, not really. I just wanted to make that joke," said the floating ball of light with a nervous chuckle. "What I _really_ am is the combined essences of all true fans. But you can refer to me by the unisex name of _Evelyn_."

"Why Evelyn?"

"Ever read _A Handful of Dust_?"

"No."

"Ever see the movie _Lost in Translation_?"

"No."

"Oh. Well, huh. There goes that."

Axel crossed his arms. He didn't have time for such inane drivel. "Is there a point to all this?"

"I'm not just an ordinary ball of light who enjoys a good novel and intellectually stimulating film; I'm also the combined essences of all true fans."

"You already said that."

"I'm reiterating."

"Talk faster. My friend's probably drowning in a vat of pink paint somewhere and I need to find him."

"Yes, your friend is in grave danger," the ball of light agreed. "The fangirl has amassed enormous powers and will stop at nothing to remake the universe in her image. It all began many moons ago during the _Otakon_…"

"Is that some sort of demonic ritual?"

"That depends on who you ask."

"Figures."

"Anyway, during the Otakon, the fangirl was one of many participants who engaged in the ancient art of _LARP_."

"If I had a heart, I'd feel violated by the sound of that word," said Axel. "Don't tell me what it means; I'd rather not know on the off chance that I _do_ manage to regain my heart some day."

"Very well…" sighed the ball of light, who was somewhat eager to explain the whole history, concept, and utter awesomeness that is LARP. "Long story short, the fangirl was shunned from the group and was kicked out of the LARP session."

Axel found a nearby rock and sat down since he figured the much needed plot exposition would take a while. "Too crazy even for them, eh?"

"Precisely," said the ball of light what a loop through the air that Axel could only suppose was meant to signify a nod. "Her weak plot suggestions were outlandish and childish, and her obsession with forcing two fellow LARPing males together was so adamant that the whole team of fans voted unanimously to exile her from the group. They claimed she knew nothing of their beloved Kingdom Hearts, and that she wouldn't know the real characters if they fell from the sky and broke all of her pink nail extensions."

"This is getting stupider and stupider," Axel mumbled. "Am I supposed to make sense of all this?"

"Perhaps and perhaps not. What's important to realize is you're dealing with a girl who's trying to prove that I, the essence of all true fans, don't understand you and your friend as well as _she_ does."

Axel stretched his arms over his head and gave his knuckles a good crunch. "Ya don't say."

"I do say."

"Well…" Axel got off the rock and exercised his stiffening neck. "Guess what, ball buddy?"

"What…?"

"No one knows Axel the way Axel knows Axel."

"And that's what we true fans believe."

"Oh you do, do you?"

The ball of light looped again. "Yes. True fans admit that there is no possible or conceivable way to know a character with 100% accuracy. Don't mistake us for our estranged counterpart; we don't cheer for you, write stories about you, and draw pictures of you because we want to change you. On the contrary, we fans know just enough about you to decide that we _are_ fans. We like you for who you are, Axel, otherwise we wouldn't be your fans."

"How flattering," said Axel, although his tone sounded anything but flattered. He didn't _want_ a bunch of fans. All he wanted was to find Roxas, teach the kooky pink creep a lesson, and get back to Twilight Town in time for the sunrise. "So about that demonic ritual—is that how she managed to hijack all that power from Yensid and Eraqus?"

"No. After she was shunned from the LARP and thrown out of the Otakon due to finally being discovered as underage, the fangirl swore revenge on the true fans. She went on a mystical, magical quest involving My Little Pony and Barbie, and upon the end of her journey, she claimed the Book of Yensid and the Pen of Eraqus as her prizes. Using her newfound godly powers, she imprisoned the essences of her once fellow LARPers into this floating ball of light before you now. From there, she went on to bend the fabric of reality in order to bring her creations to life while forcing me—the essence of all true fans—to watch her stories unfold from this prison."

Axel picked some wax from his ear and flicked it to the side. "And where do Roxas and I fit into all this?"

"As the LARPers had informed her, the fangirl's plots were too weak and poorly planned to work. They could not be sustained, and try as she may, she could not maintain her warped realities for long before they collapsed on themselves. In an attempt to remedy this, the fangirl sought to bring the _real _characters into her story in hopes that you and Roxas would be able to balance out her lack of proper characterization skills."

"That has to be the stupidest thing I've ever heard."

"And yet here you are trapped in a wasteland fabricated by the estranged fangirl."

"So how the heck am I supposed to fix everything?"

"The Narrator told you, didn't he? You have to get the book and pen away from the fangirl and destroy them! Once you do that, you and Roxas will be transported home."

Axel tapped one of the bars to the cage. "Hey, are you all here? Whenever I get close to her, she flings me into another half-baked fantasy world!"

"Use the Plot Device to go to the one realm she can't touch you."

"And where is this mystical, pink girl-free haven?"

"August 14th."

"_Where_?"

"You heard me. Because of the way her mind works, the fangirl has subconsciously decreed that only August 13th is a magical day that gives might to her magical abilities. She can't escape the confides of her own rules. Once you enter the 14th, she won't be able to keep a hold over you anymore."

"Meaning she'll lose all her powers?"

"No. She'll still have power, just not over you or Roxas. In order to stop her completely and reverse all the damages, you'll have to—"

"Go to therapy for the rest of my nonexistent life?"

"That and disarm her of the book and pen."

With another crack of knuckles, Axel prepared to fire off the Plot Device. "Sounds like a plan to me. Let's hope it works."

"Be careful, Axel. Don't underestimate the fangirl. She may be pink and petite, but she's still an evil mastermind."

"And I'm the Flurry of Dancing Flames." Axel pushed the big, red button on his Plot Device and disappeared off the island, leaving the essence of all true fans once again alone to pray for the fangirl's downfall.

* * *

A/N: Next chapter is the final one.


	8. Chapter 8

Axel materialized in a realm that spanned infinitely in all directions. Though his boots seemed to touch nothing but air, he felt as if he was touched down on solid ground. Only when he looked down to see the whole of infinity that was the eternal realm of August 14th did he notice that for once he was not dressed in crazy, outlandish clothing. He was finally back in black, wearing his Organization cloak and feeling the heat of his fiery might coursing through his veins.

Just for the hell of it, Axel snapped his fingers. To his relief, his hand caught fire. "Heheheh. Perfect." He snapped his fingers again to dissipate the flames and then held out his arms to summon his chakrams.

"What are you doing _here_ of all places?" squeaked the all-too familiar, prepubescent voice of the kooky fangirl as she fluttered down from a pink vortex and gracefully touched ground.

"I've been waiting for you, girlie!" Axel said with devious smirk stretching wildly across his face. "It's payback time!"

The fangirl merely sighed and shook her head. "Tsk, tsk! When will you ever learn, Axey-waxey? You need to work on your manners and do as your told! Now why don't you come with me and you can go play house with Roxy, m'kay?"

"Hmm, let me think about that," Axel said, giving the mock impression that he was actually thinking about it. "How about no?" He flung his chakrams at the crazy girl, who was unfazed as usual.

"Squee! Axel's doing an uber-kawaii action pose!" After taking a few snapshots while gracefully dodging every attack Axel threw at her, she flicked back her long, flowing, greasy locks and took aim with her pen. "I'm gonna huggies these pictures after I print them in banner size at Kinkos! But before that, let's get you on that mansion estate place, m'kay?"

"Like hell!" Axel dodged the pretty pink ray beams that burst out of the pen accompanied by rainbows and butterflies, and fought for his life. He unleashed every battle strategy hew knew and some that he invented right there on the spot, but _nothing_ could stop the fangirl's wrath. Finally, after ten _straight hours_ of fighting _nonstop_, Axel was too worn out to budge.

"I don't know why I can't freezey-weeze you like I used to, but oh well! You're still going to that mansion!" The fangirl again aimed her pen. "You'll wuvs it, Axey-poo! You'll have a butler and a maid and a chauffeur and a garden and another garden and diamonds and gold and—_ouchies_!" The fangirl rubbed the newly formed boo-boo on the back of her head. "What was that?" She turned around to see Roxas catch the Keyblade on its return from the fangirl's long-overdue Strike Raid assault.

"Get away from my friend!" shouted the Key of Destiny. He then unleashed ten hours worth of his own attacks until he collapsed next to Axel.

"Glad you could make it, partner," Axel wheezed.

"You wouldn't _believe_ how many Heartless I had to kill to get here," Roxas wheezed in turn.

"Oh, I believe it…"

"What do we do now?"

Axel let out a dry laugh. "Honestly? Pray."

"But—"

"SQUEE! AXEL AND ROXAS ARE HAVING A MOMENT TOGETHER! ZOMG!" The fangirl quickly took out her three spare camera phones and snapped as many pictures as could fit on her memory sticks. After she finished drooling over her phones and causing them to electrically short-circuit, she _again_ readied her pen and aimed it at our heroes. But before she could fire it, something loud and obnoxious jumped in front of her and obstructed her view.

"Well HOW-DAAAY!" shouted Deadpool in a cowpoke, rootin' tootin' style.

"Eep!" exclaimed the kooky girl. "It's you! The evil demon man thing!"

"Yup! I sure am a man, alright! Heck, I'm the manliest thing on this side of Manville. I'm so manly that I make the Manwich look like a kid's veggie meal for the morbidly obese (a.k.a. gruel and chocolate ex-lax)." Deadpool ripped off his shirt and showed off his muscular build. "I'm 100% man composed of Grade A man-meat! Check out these pecks!" He flexed his pecks, earning a romping round of squees from the fangirl.

"ZOMG! UR SO UBER KAWAII!"

"Why, thank you! I _did_ get my tan in Hawaii! Wanna see?"

The fangirl squeed again, nodding her head up and down like a Looney-Tune character. Though when Deadpool pulled off his mask to show off his burnt, battle-scarred, and gruesome face, she could do little more than scream in horror.

"I know, I know," Deadpool sighed. "The ladies just can't resist me. And if ya think _that's_ manly, wait 'till ya see my grundies!" With a proud smile, Deadpool yanked out his underwear from his pants and took a good, long whiff of 'em. "Whew! Smell that man-stench! Hoo-whee! Nothing says 'I'm manly' like a pair of old, grime-caked grundies." Deadpool gave his underwear a big hug. "Ah, grundies… They're just like undies only bigger and with more places to hide stuff." He flinged them at the fangirl, who dodged them and screamed again.

"Oh, by the way, cowpokes!" he said while turning to Axel and Roxas. "I brought ya a little something." Deadpool tossed them each an elixir, which they drank and bounced back to their feet ready for battle.

"It's on, girlie!" shouted Axel as he and Roxas tag-teamed to take down the pink menace. Chakrams and Keyblades went flying in all directions, but they could barely make a dent in the pink aura protecting the little pipsqueak.

"Make babies not war!" shouted the fangirl as her battle cry. "Come on, you guys! Both of you kiss and make up!"

Axel resisted the urge to _pretend_ _resisting the urge_ to vomit as he countered a wave of pink electro spikes with a flaming tornado. While he caught the fangirl's attention, Roxas channeled a great amount of energy into Oathkeeper and Oblivion until he was ready to unleash Ars Arcanum II XP—a technique he developed on the spot just for the fangirl. But unfortunately, the second he got too close to her, the kooky girl "tee-heed" and jumped out of the way, leaving Roxas in mid-swing and vulnerable to Axel's flaming tornado.

"Sorry, Roxas!" Axel called. Before he could rush over and help his pal, he got caught off guard by the fangirl, who blew a kiss at him. Axel burnt and permanently scarred his face where the blown kiss landed in order to purify his skin of its taint.

While Axel and Roxas battled for their lives against the pink wisps of doom, Deadpool sneaked around the battle and tore a rift through the time-space continuum with his katana, thus opening a doorway back into the Narrator's Realm. He then stepped through and aimed his AK-47 with the intent to kill the—wait, what? Hey! No—!

_BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM!_

Hiya, folks! Deadpool here breaking the fourth wall like usual! Ain't I a stinker? Well, looks like the narrator's taking a nap in some homemade red jelly! Or is it jam? Whatever. The important thing is it's 100% natural and free of GMOs, so all you health nuts out there can relax. Now while he's dozing like the lazy sack of squishy bits that he is, it looks like it's up to me to tell the rest of the story!

With these super-cool narrating powers granting me ultimate control over this universe, I'm really, really tempted to steal the show, but—wait, hey! Maybe I _should_ steal the show! I mean, c'mon; what's more fun than reading up on all my adventures of daring-do, tomfoolery, and crazy shenanigans? Oh, right. You guys are _Kingdom Hearts_ fans and probably don't have _any_ idea just how groovy I am. Well, I'll have you know that Disney owns Marvel now, so technically, I, being a product of Marvel, now own a piece Kingdom Hearts. Or something like that. I dunno. I'm not exactly legal-savvy and I left my Legalese-to-English dictionary in my other grundies between the stale macaroons and the seven-week-old flat root beer.

Anyway, do yourselves a favor and run out to your local comic shop and buy Deadpool books today! They're a bajillion times better than following around some dork with an oversized house key. And, and! I shoot stuff with guns! No, seriously. I do it _all_ the time! Fun, fun—right?

Hey, wait! Where are you going? No, don't leave yet! Look, I'm going to go narrate the Axel-Roxas-Pinky battle now, okay? So stick around if you want to find out what's going to happen next. (Geez, I can't believe I have to sell myself short like this… Note to self: hide Blind Al's meds again later to blow off some steam, hee-hee.)

So back outside the time-space rift doohicky, the super-awesome hero Deadpool tossed himself back onto the scene to lend his soon-to-be new spare source of cheap pyrotechnics (take _that_, Mark Brook and friends) and stooge Axel a helping hand in defeating their horrible, vile, and insanely deranged foe, Miss Kooky van Frillypants.

"Where the heck have you been?" Axel shouted, somersaulting clear of yet another freakishly pink tentacle of unspeakable doom.

"He a friend of yours?" Roxas asked as he did an awesome, Matrix-style leap and dodged a barrage of pink bullets.

"Something like that. Hurry up and help us kill this—" Axel got cut off mid-sentence when one of those creepy tentacles grabbed hold of his leg. Seriously, what's with the Japanese and tentacle monsters?

"Hold on, Axel!" Roxas rushed to his blood-buddy's rescue only to fall into a whole _pit_ of tentacles. He tried to cut his way free with his Keyblades, but for every one tentacle he chopped in half, three more took its place. Pretty soon, both Roxas and Axel were swarming with tentacles until they slowly lost consciousness and fell face-first at the feet of the fangirl.

"Tee-hee! Silly little bishies! Don't you know that love _always_ wins in the end?" said Pinky the Power Pixie as she _once again_ aimed her pen (most likely in vain) at her victims. "Now hold still. This hurts me more than it hurts you."

"And _this_ hurts _you_ more than it hurts Stan Lee!" said Deadpool as he fired off the Excelsior Cannon, which was actually a water pistol that didn't squirt very far. But on the bright side, at least it sprinkled Bon-Bon Ballerina enough to annoy her.

"HEY! You got my super special awesome pantyhose wet!" she shouted hard enough for her big, blue veins to pop out of her tiny, pale head.

"Hey, didja know? Video killed the radio star and I killed video by jamming my socks in the VCR so when I hit rewind it could roll 'em up all nice just like mamma used to do."

"What does that have to _do_ with anything?" screeched the tiny tot with the scrawniest limbs I ever did see. And trust me, folks, I've seen my fair share of limbs in all shapes, sizes, and colors. Katanas can be very cultural tools.

"Dunno," Deadpool replied with a snap, crackle, and pop.

"What are you doing _now?_"

"Eatin' _Rice Krispies_," Deadpool muttered between slurps. "Mmm! Them's good krispies!"

"How did—where did—what?"

"Aww, I like it better when it turns my milk chocolate!" Deadpool threw the half-eaten bowl of cereal over his shoulder and slid his mask down to once again cover his mouth. "Now where were we?"

"Get out of here! This is_ my_ fanfic!" The junior high girl who probably was still a freshman, and therefore too young to be posting on this site anyways, held up her feathery pen high above her head with pride (probably proud she managed to steal the thing from a flamingo and live to tell about it. I'm serious, have _you_ ever tried wrestling with a flamingo? It's not easy unless you're a walking death machine like me). "I am _Goddess_ here!" she bellowed, summoning forth a malicious streak of lightning to give testament to her might. "I dream the plotline, I write the pages, I spellcheck the errors—me, me, me! This is _my_ story! It'll go the way I want it or I'll end it right here!"

Another three bolts of lightning struck and the fangirl reached her hands higher to the heavens as if to embrace them. "Now leave here before I—huh? Where'd you go?" The kooky girl only just realized that Deadpool wasn't around to hear any of her overblown rhetoric. She turned her head 'round and 'round until she caught him waving from yet another tear in the time-space continuum. "Aha! So you're running away, eh?"

"No, I just had to get some cardio in before your monologue bored the everlasting life out of my immortality," Deadpool clarified with a trendy snap of his fingers. "That, and I wanted to pull this guy out." Deadpool reached into the rift and yanked out a young man by his bleached-blond hair.

"Ouch! Hey! That hurts!" Tidus cried as he was painfully torn away from saving Spira from Sin's ultimate destruction in order to make a cameo appearance as Deadpool's new sidekick. "What the heck's going on here?"

"Well, that girl over there just stole your famous line," Deadpool explained, pointing an accusatory finger at his arch foe. "I think we _all_ know that this is _your_ story, right?"

Tidus rubbed the back of his head. "Uh, yeah, it's my story, but who are—"

"Exactly!" Deadpool interjected with a feverous nod of his head. "It's your line and she stole it. Ergo, _you_ should be the fangirl to write this story!"

"Yeah, I should be the—huh?"

Both Tidus and the fangirl gaped at Deadpool.

"Are you for real?" Miss Frillypants cried, adding yet _another_ wrinkle to her forehead. Seriously, girlfriend, if you want to walk the catwalk like the best of 'em, you'll need some serious botox come time you actually _hit_ puberty. Oh-ho, but you can't hear me, now can you? And why's that? Why's that, honey cakes? Because _I'm_ the _real_ god of this story! Boo-ya!

"Yo listen up, here's a story 'bout when I was all blue. Blue was my house with a blue little window and a blue corvette—everything was blue for me and everyone; inside and outside," Deadpool replied with a rappin' tone of fond nostalgia. "But then Nate had to go and wreck it all with his G.I. Jesus shtick! Jerk!" Deadpool pulled out his machine guns and started angrily shooting them into the air.

"Whoa! I'm getting out of here!" Tidus made a run for the rift but it closed before he could jump through. "Hey! Get me outta here! I want out _now!_"

Deadpool waved his finger. "Uh-uh, not until we have a _complete_ family reunion!"

"No…" Tidus's eyes went wide with horror. "You don't mean…?"

"I do." Reaching for his katana, Deadpool struck it horizontally back into the fabric of time and ran with it past Tidus and the fangirl, bypassing Axel and Roxas' unconscious bodies and not stopping until the slash in time was as large as fifteen Monstros. "Come on out, gang!" Deadpool beckoned.

The fangirl and Tidus, watched with mortification as a storm of bodies rained down from the tear in the fabric. Every Final Fantasy, Disney, and Kingdom Hearts character known to man (including the ones not known/remembered by the general public) collapsed on top of Tidus into a massive pile of unconscious human and anthropomorphic heroes, sidekicks, villains, and NPCs.

"What is _that_?" cried the fangirl.

"That," said Deadpool with a big, broad, proud smile popping out from behind the fabric of his mask, "is a complete roster of everyone you need in order to write a _real_ story! How you ever managed to do _anything_ with only two characters from this _entire frickin' fandom_ is _beyond_ me. What the hell kind of scam are you trying to run here, anyhow?"

"B-but…!"

"Lady, let me tell you something: you're more of a mass-murderer than _I'll_ ever be, and I'm a mercenary! I kill to live; I live to kill! It's my job, nay, my _duty_! So what's your excuse? You've exterminated all of these people from the universe save for Axe-spray and Rocks-ass over there—and for that, Miss Frillypants, you are officially my rival in the killin' biz." Deadpool whipped out a couple of handguns and aimed them at the fangirl. "You know the saying: when there's a rival, someone's gotta die eventually. Better make it sooner than later since I've got a rep to protect and all."

The fangirl, drained of all her better-writer-than-thou fangirly might, burst out into tears as her quivering legs collapsed and she fell to her knees. "I didn't kill anyone!" she bawled. "I just wanna write slash fics!"

"Oh please! Warping their personalities around to the point where they're not accurate representations of themselves qualifies as murder, ya know. Just ask Mary—she can give you a real-life anecdote of all her fun and crazy adventures while she battled with her split personalities! …Actually, scratch that. Since Typhoid Mary took over, Mary's pretty much dead. Hell, you have no idea what I'm talking about, do you? (If you don't, pick up your copy of Deadpool Classic today and find out! Deadpool Classic: from the makers of the original Deadpool. It's Deadpool-eriffic!)"

The fangirl sniffled and solemnly shook her head. "I j-just wanna…sniff…see Axel and Roxas be together…sniff. Is that so _wrong?_"

"Yes!" grunted Axel as he rose to his feet and dusted himself clean. "It's one thing to pal around with my best friend, but it's not okay when you take it outside the boundaries of buddy-buddy comradery."

"Yeah!" Roxas added as he joined his amigo. "Which part of '_just friends_' don't you get?"

"Oh, oh! I know this one!" Deadpool squealed while jumping from foot to foot. "Ryan Reynolds and Amy Smart shattered my funny bone with that one! Though if you ask me, 'ol Ryan should've pulled a katana on his girl when she stuck him in the Friend Zone the first time around. That's what I would've done and he's me in the movies so, you know, yeah. …What were we talking about again?"

"The point is," Roxas said, picking up the conversation as per the five-second rule, "you can't force us to be together like that and think we'll agree to it."

"When you turn us into lifeless dolls that have no free will, that's all we'll be—lifeless dolls at the mercy of your bidding and every whim," Axel added. "We'll stop being Roxas and Axel and turn into fantasized characters that only have the superficial appearance of Roxas and Axel. Where's our essence in all that? Somewhere far away and forgotten."

"A.k.a. Canada," Deadpool reiterated.

"The point is, while I'm flattered to have fans, I'd like to think they find me worth their while because of my character and personality," said Axel, mirroring the words of the essence of all true fans.

"And yet they don't," Deadpool scoffed, waving his handguns in the air. "That's why you've got delusional chicks like this one stalking your every move and jotting down her fantasies of you while soaking in a lilac-scented bubble bath surrounded by red, pink, and violet candles!"

"Yeah, but—"

"And don't you _dare_ forget all the portraits of your exact likeness she imprints into every strawberry in her freshly-picked basket before dipping them in a bowl of whipped cream that she twirled around to look like Roxas's hair!"

"Deadpool, that's enough—"

"You want to hear _enough_, Axel? Well too bad! All I can tell you is what's _not_ enough, and the list includes (but is not limited to) the following: locks of your hair, flakes of your skin cells, chewed wads of your gum, chewed popsicle sticks from your favorite frozen treat, and the dirtied black cloak you've left at the cleaners but couldn't pick up because the guy 'accidentally' lost it!"

"Deadpool, you've gone too far!" Axel shouted like the big baby that he is. He can't handle the truth, but Deadpool would make him. Oh, he would _so_ make him or die trying only to be revived and try again even harder.

"Gone too far? I haven't gone far enough! You think she'll stop at all that? Well you'd be wrong if you did, sir! Writing stories about you and your buddy getting hitched is the _least_ of your worries. You need to get a restraining order on every fangirl out there before you find yourself locked in a dark and dank cellar with nothing but a pair of fuzzy pink handcuffs wrapped tight around your wrists to keep you from leaving the bedside of your deranged groupie captor!"

"STOP!"

Everyone save for Deadpool, who continued to ramble on about something dealing with tacos and the ancient Aztec god Quetzalcoatl, stopped to look at the teary-eyed fangirl.

"It's all my fault," she sniffed.

"So you finally admit your wrongdoings?" Axel asked.

The fangirl shook her head.

"You mean you're not sorry?" Roxas inquired further.

Again the fangirl shook her head.

"Then what's your fault?" Axel demanded.

"It's all my fault…sniff…because I forgot to hide the key to my diary and my brother must've found it!" the overly pink and garish girl bawled, confusing everyone in the room save for Deadpool who was too busy enjoying the mouth-watering goodness of the spare chimichanga he kept in his pants for emergencies. "If my stupid, doody-headed brother didn't steal the key, that lunatic wouldn't have made it in here to override my authority!" she said through angry tears while pointing an accusatory, though petite and non-menacing, finger at our hero.

"Chimichanga! Chimichanga! Chimichanga! Chimichanga!" Deadpool paused to turn and smile towards the camera (even though written works don't _have_ cameras). "I just _love_ saying that word! Chimichanga!"

"Wait a minute, whoa! Back up!" Axel exclaimed. "You have a _brother_?"

"Unfortunately," the girl spat. "Boys are so icky, gross, and immature. I dread being _related_ to one."

"Umm…I'm a boy," Roxas said.

"Nu-uh! You're too uber kawaii to be a boy."

"That makes no sense."

"Sure it does. You're hot and have the voice of a teenage pop sensation while my brother's a big, ugly mule who sounds like he has rocks in his throat."

"That doesn't alter his given gender and overall biological structure," Axel pointed out. "Face it, girlie, he's a bonafide boy, and I'm a strapping young man not even in my twenties yet."

"No!" the girl snapped. "You're not boys! You don't play contact sports or pick your nose or track dirt into the house or make war and not peace or enjoy fighting or have obsessive fetishes over cars, tanks, and airplanes!"

At that moment while our hero jumped into the pile of still unmoving and unconscious characters he summoned from all the other worlds of the rainbow, a giant light bulb went off over Axel and Roxas's heads. As Deadpool practiced his backstroke in the pool of people, Axel and Roxas looked at each with equally devious grins that said, "You thinking what I'm thinking?"

"You two are bishies," the kooky, deranged girl reaffirmed. "You're cute, little bishies who have been led astray by my oaf of a brother's meddling."

"Oh really…?" Axel hummed.

"Yes, and I'll be sure to set you straight come next AkuRoku Day."

"Well, okay then. While we're waiting for that, Roxas and I will spend our free time working on our tank models," Axel said while picking his nose.

"Wh-wha…?" The girl's eyes went wide as Axel wiggled his pinky finger free of his nostril and rolled the gooey green piece of snot between his fingers before flicking it to the side.

"Yeah, we just love building model tanks, don't we, Roxas?"

"Oh, yeah!" Roxas nodded with gusto. "Whenever we're not hunting Heartless or eating ice cream, Axel and I build model trucks, tanks, and airplanes in hopes of one day creating a World War II diorama. Right now, we're just finishing up the US M26 Pershing to position next to our German Panzer VIII Maus."

"Wh-wha…?" the girl repeated.

"Oh, and Donald Duck helps us out," Axel added. "In spirit, though, since he's still frozen somewhere."

Roxas again nodded. "Yeah, we play his award-winning WWII song 'Der Fuhrer's Face' in the background while we airbrush to remind us how glad we are to be American!"

"Even though they're technically Japanese!" Deadpool chimed while springing up from behind Roxas and giving him a one-armed hug. "…And nationality don't mean squat in Kingdom Hearts." He then ducked back down again and scurried off somewhere.

The girl's jaw dropped before she shook her head in the off chance that she had misheard their claims. Man, could she _get_ anymore delusional? Where's Dr. Phil when you need him? Someone here needs to get real, and I'll give you a hint: it's not me.

"Oh, hey! Roxas, don't look now, but Deadpool's throwing you a pass!" Axel shouted.

"What—where?" Roxas swerved around just as Deadpool finished tossing the 'ol pigskin at his blond-haired compadre.

"Why is it so important that I make sure everyone knows you're a blond, anyway?" Deadpool wondered. "It's not like that quality defines you in any way unless you're being compared to Sora, which in this case, you're not."

Roxas caught the ball and threw it down in triumph. "Whoo! Touchdown!"

"Nice one, partner!" Axel cheered, running in for a high-five. But the second their hands touched, Axel interlocked their fingers and twisted Roxas's wrist, gaining enough leverage to flip him over flat onto his back. "Ref, now!"

Deadpool, now dressed in a referee's uniform, slid to the ground and started pounding his hand next to the KO'ed kid. "One, two, three—you're out! Axel wins!" Deadpool sprung up blowing his whistle and grabbed Axel's hand, hoisting it up to proclaim him the victor.

The fangirl's complexion turned an even paler shade of pasty white as the inane antics of masculinity unfolded before her. "Well…at least they're not gun fanatics."

"Speak for yourself!" Axel said, now armed to the teeth with rifles, shotguns, handguns, and rocket launchers.

"Now I _know_ you're making that up!" the girl growled. "You use chakrams, not guns!"

"That's only 'cuz Disney wants to keep everything kid-friendly," Deadpool explained. "When these guys aren't filming for Kingdom Hearts, they freelance as mercs. They're some of the best in the biz, ya know. Fought in all the hotspots like Congo, Vietnam, Somalia, and the Oscars!"

Axel cocked a gun and nodded. "Yup. And you see all those guns Deadpool has? They're not his."

"I just hold onto them for these guys while they fight Heartless the E-for-Everyone way," Deadpool said while strapping Roxas into a pack stuffed with grenades and other fun explosives.

The fangirl looked on with watering eyes as her all-time favorite _bishies_ disillusioned her. She then looked down at her pretty pink notebook and matching fuzzy pen, and with a saddened moan, tossed them away. The second they left her hands, Axel and Deadpool were all over them like peanut butter and jelly over Wonder Bread.

"Whoo! I get to play god!" said Deadpool as he made a grab for the pen.

"You're _already_ playing god," Axel reminded him.

"Oh yeah." And with that, Deadpool's short attention span kicked in as he tossed the pen aside and started rambling some more about tacos. Only this time, with some added babbling about the Hindu deity Ganesha. When no one was paying attention, he ripped open another rip in the time-space continuum and disappeared from the story for good.

Axel looked at the pink paraphernalia that had caused him such grief and despair—or rather, _feigned _grief and despair since he was a Nobody and didn't feel any of that stuff to begin with. With fire in his eyes, he bore holes into the notebook and pen, ready to destroy them and destroy the fangirl's fantasies with it. But Roxas interrupted his moment of triumph.

"Hey, Axel… I'm starting to think that maybe…"

"What?"

"Well…" Roxas rubbed the back of his head. "She's not really a Heartless, is she?"

"Nope. She's just a little girl who's got a looooong way to grow."

"I thought so." Roxas cast his eyes to the ground.

"Hey, what's wrong?"

"Is it…right for us to destroy her hopes and dreams?"

"Don't tell me you feel _sorry_ for this little twit!" Axel exclaimed. "Roxas, she made our lives a living hell! I don't have a clue what she made _you_ do—but me? Well, I'd rather not repeat half the nonsense I had to wade through just to find the real you!"

"I know, I know; but still, look at her! She's crying a whole river!"

It was true. A full-fledged river started to form around the girl, fed by her infinite stream of woeful tears.

"Sorry, Roxas; if you're trying to pull at my heart strings, your efforts are in vain. Don't got none, remember?"

"Doesn't that double negative mean that you _do_ in fact have heart strings?"

Axel contorted his face. "You know what I mean!"

"I guess so…" Roxas let out a dejected sigh, one that touched Axel even if he didn't have a heart. Maybe he didn't feel for crying kids, war-torn places, mutants shunned from society, foiled weddings, and painful breakups, but there was one thing that _did_ touch him—his best friend's feigned feelings. He would bend over backwards for Roxas, not because of any romantic feelings mind you, but because they were best friends and Axel made good on his friendships.

"What do you want me to do, Roxas?" he asked. "I'm not going to let her violate you or me just to appease her!"

"No, nothing like that," Roxas said with a shake of his head. "But maybe we can talk to her—make her feel better, you know?"

Axel looked into his best buddy's eyes and just couldn't say no. With a reluctant sigh, he agreed.

"Hey, um, not-Heartless girl?" Roxas tapped the fangirl on the shoulder.

"What do _you_ want?" she sniffled, rubbing at her puffy, red eyes.

"I'm sorry if we hurt your feelings," said Roxas earnestly (or as close to that emotion as he could get). "But you know, even if we don't exist, we're still alive."

"Yeah. You've got to treat people with respect," Axel added. "Heck, how would _you_ like it if someone forced you to kiss a girl?"

"Eww! That's GAH-ross!" shouted the fangirl. She wiped at her tongue as if she could taste the phantom girl kiss. "Why would you do something so _meeaaan?_ Do you hate me _that much_?"

"We don't hate you. We don't have the ability to _feel_ hatred."

"We're Nobodies, little not-Heartless girl," said Roxas. "That means we don't experience emotion. But even if we did, Axel and I are best friends, and we don't act the way you think we do. Don't _you_ have a best friend, too? You'd never do these things with _your_ friend, would you?"

The fangirl sniffled and hung her head. "Uh-uh, I don't have one… All the _other_ KH fans said I'm not a, sniff, not a real fangirl!" She started bawling again, and Roxas patted her on the shoulder to calm her down.

"There, there," Roxas soothed. "It's okay."

"You know, girlie, I'd bet you could get more friends if you started respecting the will and personal space of others," said Axel.

"W-what do you mean?" sniffled the fangirl as she cocked her head to the side in a typical anime-style, confused fashion. "I no gets you."

"What I'm trying to say is, you should accept people for who and what they are," Axel tried to explain. "For example, Roxas and I are best friends. You clearly think otherwise, and while you can have your opinions, don't try to force them down our throats. You can say you're our fan, but you sure as hell don't respect us. You can't respect someone when you're too busy trying to reinvent them. You follow?"

The girl again cocked her head to the side and blinked. "Kweh?"

"This is hopeless," Axel muttered.

"What he's trying to say is that you shouldn't force people to do what you want them to do," said Roxas in an attempt to clarify. "No one's going to want to be your friend if you're too busy getting angry at them for not acting a way they don't want to act. You understand?"

"I think so…" said the fangirl. "You mean that instead of writing AkuRoku, I should do some SoRiku?"

Roxas was lost. "Err, come again?"

Axel cut in again. "Listen lady: what we're telling you to do is to shut your trap and actually _listen_ to what those LARPers, KHers, and anyone else you come in contact with have to say. If a kid tells you she likes the color pink, you don't give her a present that's painted black; you listen when she tells you her favorite color and you give her a present that matches it."

"_Oh_, I get you now!" said he fangirl.

"Finally…"

"You mean I should write my slash fics in the canonverse instead of doing it all AU!"

Axel slapped his forehead. "You're not getting this whole 'listening' thing, are you?"

"Tee-hee!"

"Yup, you're a lost cause." Axel gripped the pen and book tightly in his hands. "Have fun wasting away in this empty void with the Merc with a Mouth for all eternity." He summoned fire to burn the bright, pink paraphernalia before Roxas could take anymore pity on the twerp, but for some odd reason, the book wouldn't burn. "The hell? Hey, what's going on here? Is this thing defective? Burn, damn you! Burn!"

"Maybe we can't go home until we've helped not-Heartless girl?" Roxas wondered.

"Who came up with _that_ rule?"

"I don't know, but it's worth trying."

"Roxas, she's a space-case!" Axel contended, flailing his arms in the air. "Everything we say to this chick goes in one ear, loops around, and comes right back out the other!"

Roxas thought for a moment. "Hey, wait; I have an idea!" He whispered something into Axel's ear.

"Hey! Not a bad idea!" replied his buddy. Axel opened the pink notebook and jotted something down with the matching pen. Within seconds, a pretty, pink portal opened up and spewed out a tiny tot girl dressed in purple.

"Where am I…?" she wondered as she fluttered up using her pretty, purple fairy wings.

"ZOMG! Liek, who are you?" asked the kooky fangirl.

"I'm, liek, the biggest KH fan evar!" replied the new girl.

"LIEK, NO WAI! I so totally am!"

"Nuh-uh!"

"Yuh-huh!"

"Nuh-uh!"

"Yuh-huh!"

"Nuh-uh!"

"Yuh-huh!"

"Nuh-uh!"

"Yuh-huh!"

After going on and on like that for a while, the two finally burst into laughter and started talking Kingdom Hearts. Little Miss Kooky van Frillypants made a new best friend, and the two fluttered up back through the pink portal where they disappeared to co-write non-magical fanfics.

"There; now she knows what it's like to have a best friend," said Roxas.

"Amen to that, brother. Now she can write stories about _her_ wedding," Axel added.

Roxas raised his brow in confusion. "Huh?"

"Nevermind." Axel quickly changed the subject to focus on the burning of the book. "Now what's say we head back to Twilight Town and catch that sunrise?"

"Yeah!"

Axel again summoned a fire spell to burn the book and pen, and again he failed. "What the _hell_, man? Why won't this stupid thing turn to ash?"

"Can I see it?"

"Knock yourself out." Axel handed the book over to his best friend, who inspected it thoroughly.

"Hey, look at this!" Roxas said while pointing to a keyhole on the front cover. "Maybe we need to lock the book before we destroy it."

"It's worth a shot. Do your stuff, partner!"

With a nod, Roxas touched the Keyblade to the keyhole. But as with Axel's fire, nothing happened.

"Are you kidding me? Even the Keyblade has no effect on this thing?" While Axel mouthed off a bunch of expletives he had kept pent up ever since this crazy journey started, Roxas examined the keyhole further until another light bulb clicked over his head. He remembered what the fangirl had said about her brother stealing the key to her diary, and the hard efforts of that poor, dying man who pointed Roxas in the direction of the trashcan. Slipping his hand in his pocket, Roxas pulled out the small, silver key and tried it on the lock. It worked! He twisted the key and…

* * *

Axel and Roxas woke up sitting in their favorite spot atop the Twilight Town clock tower. They stretched and yawned as they gazed out across the fading starry view in the horizon, remembering nothing of their time traversing the many zany worlds crafted by the fangirl. It was like the whole thing never happened, even in a nightmare. And yet, Roxas felt compelled to ask something because a strange sense of insecurity washed over him.

"Axel?"

"What's up?"

"We're…friends, right?"

"Heh." Axel smiled and gave his pal a pat on the shoulder. "Partner, we're the _best_ of friends."

Satisfied by the answer, Roxas smiled in turn, and the two sat shoulder-to-shoulder watching as the sun rose to shine its light over a new day.

* * *

A/N: This story has thus come to an end, and I feel that in light of some misunderstandings regarding the previous few chapters, that it would be best to write some sort of explanation.

Let me start by saying that this story was always intended to go in this direction. Someone commented that Chapter 6 was too confusing to enjoy. Well, it was intentionally made confusing. There's a lot going on there, particularly on Deadpool's end. He's a crazy, unstable and spontaneous character whose sole existence in this story is to throw a wrench in the Fangirl's plans by detracting all the attention from her inane plots. I can see now that it's a hit or miss in terms of enjoyment.

I want to address something else about Ch. 6—a misunderstanding that was likely reached by more than one person. I didn't intend for Deadpool's comments to be the centerpiece focus of the Axel portion. What bothers me about descriptions like "brunette" and "blonde" isn't so much the semantics as the way they're used as lazy writing. Sora becomes the brunette and Roxas becomes the blonde. You may as well swap their names for their hair colors if that's the most important trait about them. These characters are so much more than just their hair.

I thought about Ch. 6 for about a year—what I wanted to do and how I wanted to shape the bridging chapter between Deadpool's involvement and the moment where Axel and Roxas finally leave the fangirl's sights. On one end, I wanted to illustrated just how psychotic and powerful Deadpool is by having him hijack the story on multiple accounts. He not only put in a chapter heading, but he completely reversed the direction of the story by breaking the long cycle of back-to-back Axel and Roxas stories. If you notice, Ch. 1-5 all follow a particular pattern. When the chapter ends with an Axel fic, the chapter immediately following it begins with an Axel fic. The same goes for Roxas. But in Ch. 6, Deadpool prevents this from happening. What should have opened as a Roxas fic turns into an Axel one. Why did he do it? Because he can. It demonstrates his ability to compete with the fangirl on her deity-like level.

Perhaps that to some readers was confusing. However, to those unfamiliar with the Doctor Who Universe, the Roxas portion of the story was also likely to be confusing. There were many names dropped here, there, and everywhere. Although perhaps you didn't find much humor in it, the confusion in itself was a form of satire. It is very difficult to read a story that isn't labeled as a cross-over when so many unexpected character show up as if I, the reader who is unfamiliar with this fandom, am supposed to know everyone like they're good chums of mine. There was no characterization; just names. This doesn't just apply to unexpected cross-overs, but to OCs as well. Without some kind of clear direction and characterization, _of course_ the story will be confusing. This was, like everything else, an attempt to show that the Fangirl doesn't know how to craft a story.

This is not, however, the only reason why I chose to use the DW Universe. I decided that I could cause the universe to collapse on itself in order to free Roxas since he didn't have the luxury of a Plot Device. By imprisoning Roxas in an endless loop of reboots within the Doctor Who universe, I wanted to do two things:

One, I wanted to demonstrate how the Fangirl doesn't understand the inner workings of the fandoms she chooses to write in. She doesn't understand how Doctor Who works, and therefore, can't control it when it becomes too much to handle. When dealing with something as complex as the TARDIS (a time machine), you have to have at least _some_ understanding on what it means to travel through time and space. This Fangirl character I have created has demonstrated on numerous occasions that she has no idea what she's doing. She has no clear understanding of the fandoms she writes for, and is not very far along in her academics to grasp higher levels of literature, psychology, logic, and history. The only thing driving her to write is the desire to force the real Axel and Roxas to play a role in her fantasy worlds.

Someone once commented why the Fangirl didn't resign herself to forcing two doppelgangers to become romantically involved rather than force the real Axel and Roxas into the Fanfic World. The answer is derived from the same concept explained above: the Fangirl doesn't understand these characters well enough to make her stories work. The settings and situations she creates collapse on themselves because they fall flat in terms of realism. When she took the powers of Yensid and Eraqus—meant to be allusions to Disney and Square—she hoped to use the realness of the characters in order to sustain the failing worlds she created. This, of course, backfired because the real Axel and Roxas remain true to their personalities. No matter how it's framed, Axel and Roxas are incompatible with the Fangirl's desires, and that's why they will continue to resist until they either defeat the Fangirl or die trying.

When the Fangirl tried to force Roxas into the DW Universe, he rejected it like he did all the other worlds. But this time, the Fangirl not only had to contend with managing Roxas and Axel's relationship, but she had the added responsibility of managing the inner workings of the universe itself. She had to maintain a sci-fi adventure involving time travel while minding the potential hazards of a time paradox. Because she was unaware of what a time paradox is or how it's created, she had no idea how to avoid it. Thus, the universe collapsed twice.

My second reasoning for using the DW universe was purely plot-related. I wanted to force the universe to collapse in such a way that it forced the Fangirl to send Roxas away quickly without putting much thought into her actions. He was stuck in an endless loop of DW Universe reboots—something the Fangirl hadn't planned on. If you're not familiar with the fandom, then that would not have been apparent to you. DW has two spin-off shows, one of which was visited (Sarah Jane Adventures) in this story and the other (Torchwood) that was almost visited had the Fangirl not intervened.

Roxas was ultimately sent to the Narrator's domain as a sort of waiting room while the Fangirl finished scripting the new world to inject him into. However, during this small gap between world transfers, the Narrator seized the opportunity to interact with Roxas. He gave him a key by narrating it into existence, and this key subsequently opened a new door. This door is not a pink vortex; it's the Narrator's equivalent to Deadpool's Plot Device.

It may sound strange, but I could never find the _right_ bridge between the first portion of this story and what's to become the end of it. I needed something that was both Axel and Roxas taking on the Fangirl while simultaneously showing off Deadpool and his loose cannon behavior. He can't be controlled—not by the Narrator _or_ the Fangirl. He's a third party, and a dangerous one at that. It's because he's so insane, incoherent, and unpredictable that makes him the _perfect_ weapon against an omniscient, omnipotent teenage girl with a pretty pink pen and matching notebook.

It's been _interesting_ writing this story, to say the least. I have written this as satire—to mirror many of the trends I've noticed on this site. This isn't the best story I've written, and I certainly haven't tried to make it the best. I crafted it as a cathartic piece, and it is by no means something to take seriously. If it confuses you towards the middle or end of the story, then chances are you thought I was here to write a slash fic. Well, I'm not exactly sorry to have disappointed you. This is satire plain and simple, just like _A Modest Proposal_ and _The Colbert Report_, although certainly not of their caliber.


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: I had intended to use this as the first chapter in a sequel entitled "Didn't You Hear Me? It's NOT a Word!", but decided against it. Consider it a bonus chapter.

By the way... the author's notes in the previous chapters should be considered an "in-character" stunt. Don't take them too literally (as MANY of you unfortunately have); they're meant to parody the various idiosyncrasies you find within moody authors trying to justify abrupt, unpopular, or ill-conceived plot changes/additions. I thought about removing them for a long time, but I decided that doing so would take away from the artistic message even if some people think my intention was to get "booed" off FFN. Sorry, but I have too much fun writing _Broken Shield_ to leave.

Anyway, what's satire without controversy?

* * *

Roxas awoke in a broom closet of all places. It was dusty and cramped in that awful hellhole of a box, and a family of spiders dropped down from their maze of webs to do the jig on Roxas' head.

"I do say, dear chap," said one grooving spider. "It's an awfully smashing day for a jiggery-doo, isn't it? Pip, pip and all that."

"Aye!" concurred another spider in its cockney accent. "Smashin' me eight-legged knickers on yer head, I is! 'N wot a deli'ful li'l place you got 'ere, ducky!"

When Roxas tried to whack away the surprisingly talkative spiders, he realized that he had some kind of doofy stick in his hand in place of his Keyblade. Tossing the stick aside, it knocked into an obnoxious owl that kept hooting like it was on fire.

"Ah! Avian Heartless!" Roxas exclaimed. Without the Keyblade to defend himself, Roxas forced an exit by roundhouse kicking the termite-infested door until it splintered. But before he could run to find a Heartless-killing utensil, a skinny horse-faced woman and her elephant-like husband rolled in to scold Roxas. Of course, the second he saw them, he thought just one thing: _"More Heartless!"_

"Roxas Potter, you shut that owl up _or else_!" shouted the balloon-shaped man.

"And go fix our little Dudders some more roasted pork fat topped with lard," said the horse-faced woman. "He'd also like one of those things Yankees call a _pizza_ or some other such rubbish. Make sure to stuff it with cheese, ham, burgers, fish 'n chips, lard, gravy…"

The list went on and on, and the woman failed to realize that Roxas had quickly dashed out of the room, found a fireplace poker, and dashed right back in to knock her husband out and then chase around their little pig of a son. The piglet squealed and oinked all around the house until he got a heart attack from the exercise. Some flies buzzed around his necrotic corpse until the cockney spiders dropped in for a bite.

"Jolly good eats ya've got 'ere, ducky. Now step aside n' let us be workin' our magic, cor blimey!"

Ignoring the spiders, Roxas returned to the kitchen to deal with the horse Heartless.

"…grease flakes, more pork fat, lobster, bacon, some of that Yankee apple pie…"

A quick stab in the horsehide stopped her short. She went screaming out of the room where she tripped over her dear "Dudders" and passed out from the shock of landing next to his lardy-heavy carcass.

With all that done, Roxas took a moment to regain his bearings. He gazed around the unfamiliar house or zoo—he couldn't really tell—and came to the sudden realization that he couldn't remember much of anything before waking up in the stuffy closet. Taking a stroll over to the couch, Roxas sat down in front of the fireplace and thought for a bit.

"Hmm… the last thing I remember is… Axel? Was he screaming about something?" he wondered. "And why are there so many Heartless around? Maybe if I find Axel, he can tell me what's going on."

No sooner did he think to get up off the couch when a tidal wave of envelopes exploded from the fireplace. Shocked, Roxas stabbed at the mail with his poker thinking they were Heartless. When the letters wouldn't die, he made a hasty retreat out into the street to look for reinforcements.

But outside, he bumped into a big, burly man with a huge bush of a black beard.

"Well as I live n' breath; if in ain't Roxas Potter!" guffawed the jovial giant.

"Stay back, Heartless!" Roxas held up his poker in defense.

"I know your uncle and aunt never told ya, but…" the giant leaned in as if to tell a secret, "yer a wizard, Roxas."

"No, I'm the Key of Destiny!" Roxas poked Hagrid in the eyes with his poker, blinding the giant and then stealing the magical motorcycle parked on the street corner. It was only when he was thousands of feet in the air that Roxas realized he didn't know how to ride a motorcycle. And yet even so, he was pretty damn sure they weren't supposed to fly.

He eventually crash-landed in some marsh-like place with a huge castle structure in the distance. Roxas ditched the motorcycle, but not before picking up the umbrella latched in the side holster. With umbrella and fireplace poker in hand, he cautiously maneuvered his way towards the castle in search of Axel, Heartless, and answers.

When he got there, some kids were coming out of pumpkin carriages or something like that. Roxas thought he saw Cinderella somewhere, but it was really just some slimy, old crotchety man who threatened people with dungeon detention. As Roxas approached, Cinderella's Polar Opposite gave him the eye.

"Well, well…if it isn't our very own celebrity—Mr. Potter," sneered Snape, the potion's master.

Roxas ignored him, as he did everyone who was staring at him. While doing various missions with Axel for the Organization, he was used to civilians staring as he killed the Heartless and saved the world.

When Roxas reached the entrance, some redheaded kids barred his path.

"Cor blimey! Cheerio, mate! I be a Weasely, I is! Percy is I!"

"N' we be a right couple of demons, we be!" said some twins.

"I'm Ronald McDonald Weasely, here to sell Happy Meals and diabetes to all the wee little 'uns, I is!" said Ron with an affectionate "pip, pip".

Roxas shoved his way past all the redheads until he reached the last one. His eyes went wide with the closest thing to relief a Nobody could feel. "Axel!"

The most refined in the Queen's English, Axel bowed gracefully as any proper Englishman would. Unlike the hand-me-down potato sacks and clown getup the other Weasels—I mean, Weasleys—wore, Axel was dressed like a royal prince.

"Charmed to meet you, Mr. Potter," said Axel with a bow. He then took Roxas's hand and kissed it. "Do forgive me for being rather forward, but if you'll indulge in my fancy for a moment, I do believe we may become good friends. Perhaps, dare I say, even more?"

At first, Roxas didn't understand what was going on. How could he, being as innocent as he was? So he did what any unwitting pawn in a deranged fangirl's fantasy would do: he didn't resist.

"Axel, what's going on?" he asked, taking back his hand. "Where are we? Is this some kind of mission?"

Axel let out a suave, gentleman's chuckle. "I heard the rumors, but I didn't think it would be true that the great Roxas Potter knew only of the muggle world and not of his own! You simply must allow me to be your teacher." Axel wriggled a suggestive brow. "There are so many things I can show you…"

"Is that some kind of code?" Roxas asked, twitching his own eyebrows. "So is it one brow for attack and two for defend?"

"Dear, Roxas… it will be such a delight attending Hogwarts with you." Axel draped his arm around Roxas's shoulders.

"What are you doing?" Roxas asked, growing suspicious.

"Leading you to the sorting hat, of course. Let's pray we get a room together, hmm?" Axel let out a dashing laugh that sent warning bells ringing for Roxas.

"Is that genuine mirth?" Roxas smacked away Axel's arm and held up his umbrella and poker in a defensive pose. "You…you're not really Axel, are you?"

"Whatever do you mean, Roxas?" said pseudo Axel.

"Oy, what _do_ ya mean, ya blitherin' fool!" said one of the cockney spiders that managed to hitch a ride in Roxas's hair. "Take a butcher's at 'is dickie dirt! I'll bet he's got a pony or two to spare, luv! You'd be right radio rental not to be his trouble n' strife, ya hear? Blimey!"

Roxas stabbed the spider with his poker and flung it at the phony Axel. "Who are you? What have you done with me?"

"Nothing at all; you have my word. Though I would desire to do much to you if you understand my meaning."

"So you want to steal my heart, huh?"

"Will you let me?" said suave, charming Axel, about ready to get down on one knee and propose.

"Ha!" Roxas scoffed with a slash of his umbrella. "The jokes on you, Heartless: I'm a Nobody! I don't _have_ a heart!"

"Has He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named scarred you so? Permit me to dash away your worries and woes, dear Roxas. I shall be your pillar of strength, and together, we can rid the world of Death Eaters forever!"

Roxas didn't understand a word of that—nor did he care. While prep boy Axel blathered on, Roxas traded his umbrella (and promise of all future lunch money) to some crabby gargoyle guy for a "magical" shiv. With poker and shiv in hand, Roxas charged at the Axel fake, and void of all mercy, stabbed him to death.

"That should do it," Roxas said as he backed away in anticipation for what he assumed was a Heartless to release a heart and fade into darkness. But that never happened. Instead, time froze and some gooey, pink tentacles sprang out of the ground to ensnare Roxas.

"What the!" His weapons disappeared, leaving him defenseless as the kooky fangirls appeared.

"Le sigh…" said pink pipsqueak. "Even with a brain hug, you sure don't ever change Roxy. But I won't lose faith!"

"Believe in LOVE!" added the fuchsia fairy ditz. "Love and PEACE! Love and PEACE!" She shoved the peace sign in Roxas's face, almost poking his eyes out with it.

"Who are you people? What've you done to Axel and me? Where's my best friend?"

"Tee-hee! He's waiting for you in a bed of roses somewhere!" said the deranged pink pixie. "You'll get a biiig surprise if you can find him, wittle bishie! Good luuuuuck!" With a tap of her fuzzy pen, the fangirl banished Roxas to another twisted realm.

* * *

When Axel awoke, he was laying flat on a battlefield somewhere. His standard Organization coat had been replaced with some hi-tech black armor with an N7 insignia bolted in the upper corner of his chestplate.

"Commander, are you okay?" said some weird, blue lizard-like…_woman_? Axel couldn't tell. Anyway, the lizard thing hurried over to him and poured some kind of thick gel over his head.

"Hey, are you trying to kill me?" Axel shouted.

"Just relax, Shepard; this medi-gel will heal your cranial injuries in no time," said the lizard doctor thing—it was a doctor, wasn't it? It was wearing a white coat after all.

But before the doctor could finish applying the gel, Axel smacked it away and got to his feet. "Listen, I don't know who you are, but—"

"You have amnesia? This is not good, Commander! We're in the middle of a war!"

"_War? How bad did I smack my head?_" Axel wondered. He took a look around the battlefield as some giant cephalopod-headed insect soldiers ran around killing people and stuffing their corpses in what looked like oversized caterpillar cocoon pods.

"Commander, hurry! The Collectors are kidnapping the colonists! We don't have time for your amnesia!" The doctor shoved a gun into Axel's unwitting hands and pushed him into the field.

"_What's going on here? Where's Roxas? Where're the Heartless? Why can't I remember anything?_"

Axel didn't have any time for introspection. The bug people buzzed all around him. They swarmed him into a corner and almost touched him with their (patented) buggy feelers of doom when someone showered them with a can of bug spray.

"My, Commander; you've really lost your touch," said the newcomer. "Perhaps Project Lazarus wasn't as much of a success as we had initially thought. I'll make sure to mention this in my report to the Illusive Man."

When the bug soldiers shriveled up and died on the ground, the newcomer stomped on them to get to Axel.

"Roxas, is that you?" Axel said, narrowing his eyes to look at his tight, form-fitting suit that really emphasized and accentuated his rear-end.

"Of course it's me," Roxas said, giving his rear a contract-mandatory wiggle.

"Commander! Mr. Lawson! We don't have time," said the dino doctor. "We have to hurry back to the Normandy!"

"We have to what?" Axel echoed, befuddled.

"Hurry now, Commander," Roxas said, shaking his rear as if it were doing all the talking. He gave another spray of the Insect-B-Gone can to kill the Collectors gaining on them before shoving Axel into a shuttle that transported them to the SSV Normandy.

Onboard the Normandy, Demyx hailed Axel from the cockpit. "Yo, brah! What up, homeboy?"

"_Demyx? What the HELL is going on? Why's he here?"_ Axel wondered as he cautiously made his way over to the cockpit.

"So like, we've got like, probs, ya dig?" Demyx said with a smack of his bubble gum. He blew a big, pink bubble that popped.

"I'll take it from here, Mr. Mor'on," said Larxene, the onboard AI and resident bitch. She, too, was chewing bubblegum (albeit virtual, holographic gum). When her bubble popped, it clogged up the engines, sending the ship into a major meltdown.

"So listen, jerky-for-brains," Larxene continued, "we've got a situation here. The ship's engines are failing." She blew another bubble and the emergency oxygen masks fell from the overhead. "Bad."

"_Why's Larxene here? Sora dealt with her back in Castle Oblivion, didn't he?_" Axel pondered.

"So make with the heroism and save us or something." Larxene popped her gum.

"So, like, yeah. That's the dealy," said Demyx. He then shoved Axel out of the cockpit, where he passed some ditzy dame.

"Oh, Commander! Commander Shepard!" the ditz waved. "Yoo-hoo!"

"Who the hell are you and what do you want?" said Axel, finally figuring out that he was supposed to be the Commander.

"Aww, don't be like that, Commander! It's me—Brittany-the-bank-teller-turned-yeoman!" she said as chipper as a chirping bird as everyone was running around deck screaming their heads off as the ship took a nosedive. "Jack wants to see you in her hidey-hole."

"Who wants _what_?"

"Oh, don't be bashful, Commander! I've seen the way crazy-eyed Jack looks at you with those murderous eyes of hers! I can't wait for the drama to ensue when she finds out you've got eyes for Dat Ass! Tee-hee!"

"EXCUSE ME?" Axel all but shouted, finding the ditzy yeoman to be a royal pain.

"You know—Roxas Lawson, codename: Dat Ass. Larxene hooked us all into the security cams so we can all see the big moment when you cruise each other's space, so to speak."

"Lady, I don't know _what_ the hell you're babbling on about. Just point me in Roxas's direction and shut up before I burn you alive."

"Are you saying things are going to get heated tonight? Hoo-mama! I can't wait!" squeed Brittany, just as some of her co-workers committed ritual suicide as the ship continued to spiral out of control. "Anyway, take the elevator down to the second floor and you'll find Dat Ass in his office where he always is! Have a nice day! Buh-bye!"

Axel sneered at the former bank teller and headed down in the elevator. On the second deck, the crewmen continued to lose their cool. The gravity stabilizers began to malfunction, and rations went floating around leaving the chef to shout, "Every man for himself!" as he hoisted himself into the air and munched on his own culinary makings.

When the crew saw Axel, they bombarded him with pleas for him to hurry up and fix the thrusters, begging the question to as why the engineers weren't more suited candidates for their attention. But that's neither here nor there.

Axel couldn't care less if they all suffocated, so he pushed them aside and made his way into Roxas's office. Inside, Roxas was working his glutes. He did some butt-ups, butt-squats, and lifted butt-weights up until Axel came into the office.

"Ah, Shepard. What can I do for you?" Roxas said as he wiped the sweat from his rear with a towel.

"So you're 'Roxas', huh?" Axel said as he cautiously walked in and surveyed the room. For whatever reason, the gravity stabilizers still functioned in that room.

"Dr. T'soni told me about that bump to your head," Roxas said as he approached Axel, walking more with his rear and hips than with his legs. "So, you don't remember much then?"

"Nope," Axel replied honestly. "But that doesn't mean I'm stupid!" He grabbed the pseudo Roxas by the skin-tight collar. "What have you done with the _real_ Roxas?"

"Oh, Commander," fake Roxas said breathily. "We don't have time to play rough now—you've a ship to save."

"Stop babbling, you freaky fraud! Tell me where my best friend is!"

Roxas's rear shivered with delight as an angry Axel hoisted him into the air. "Shepard, we can't. If the Illusive Man finds out…" Roxas went to gingerly caress Axel's face, but he went smack against the wall when Axel flung him across the room.

"I don't know who you are or who set up this elaborate scheme, but I'll cut through every last one of you to save my friend!" Axel grabbed a heavy, 500lb butt weight and went to smash it into the fake's head when time suddenly stopped, fixing Axel in place like a statue.

"Squee! Did you hear that?" shrilled the all-too familiar voice of the prepubescent pink girl.

"ZOMG! He'd kill to save his lovey-dovey Woxy!" said the fuchsia twit. "Why don't we help him along a bit more? Axelicious just isn't getting it!"

"Tee-hee! I know what you mean!" With a snap of her fingers, the little pink pest opened up a swirling pink vortex of doom that transported Axel to a new world of horrors.


End file.
